The Red and the Silver
by Entr0py
Summary: "I don't know why I'm doing this. I don't know how I'm going to do it either. There's something about her; something about this poor Red girl- and I don't know what it is, but it's unique." Mare/Cal moments from Red Queen. Cal's POV. Rated T because paranoia strikes deep
1. The Thief

I push my way through the Red bar, filled to the brim with men and women sipping delightedly on beer and alcohol. Although I leave the stuffy, familiar air of the castle not only for my own escape but to see my own people- well, my _future_ people, anyway- it feels stuffy enough in here too, too stuffy for me to handle. Shoving and elbowing people like everyone else, I escape through the door.

The night is cool, the glowing silver circle that is the moon bright over head. Scraps of gentle, gray clouds float quickly across the sky, blown by a breeze that is gentle down here but must be harder up there. I am so focused on the sky, on the stars and the strange patterns and constellations they make, that I nearly don't notice the pressure of someone's finger hooking around my coin pouch. _Nearly._ I'm a prince, a soldier born and bred, and I'm trained to notice these things. I jolt and twist, my anger at the thief making my skin hot, and grasp the wrist of whoever was trying to steal from me. The thief was in the shadows, so I snatch them out, not quite able to see them. They struggle, trying to pull away, but suddenly stop.

"Thief," I say in surprise, still recovering. Not many people try to steal from me.

They blink at me. "Obviously," they say, not bothering to protest, which surprises me further. I narrow my eyes a little, looking this burglar up and down. The robber is a girl, just slightly younger than me, small with faded hair. She has dirty clothes and worn boots, and her eyes are defeated-looking. She is obviously a Red. I quickly exhale a breath, and, feeling a strange pity for this girl, release her wrists. Her tired eyes widen as she stares, simply stunned. I reach into my pocket, fingering one of the coins, riches from my position as prince.

 _The hell are you doing, Cal? She's just a Red. A stupid Red. You shouldn't care about her,_ a voice in my head screams.

I do it anyway.

I take a tetrarch, a silver coin worth a whole crown, out of my pocket, and before I could possibly decide otherwise, throw it to the poor Red. Her mouth drops open and her eyes go even wider, and I watch in slight entertainment, suppressing a smile, as she recovers just in time to catch it.

"That should be more than enough to tide you over," I say, before she can answer in any way. She doesn't say anything for a moment, standing her ground, her hands clutched tightly around the coin I threw her. Her eyes skim up and down over me, taking in my appearance like I took in hers earlier, and I wonder, for a moment, that despite being a Red, she will somehow recognize me. But she doesn't say anything about that, to my relief. I expect her to thank me, sputtering in wonder and excitement, but she doesn't.

"Why?"

The question surprises me, as does her cold, harsh tone. She's . . . strange. Truthfully, I don't really know. I don't know why I care. I don't know why I pity her- I don't know why I, a Silver, gave a coin worth a crown to her, a Red. I just did. I shrug, trying to cover up my uncertainty. "You need it more than I do."

She looks hesitant, and she grits her teeth. Her hands clench tighter around the coin, half like she expects me to take it back and half like she wants to throw it in my face. "Thank you," she forces herself to say.

I can't help myself. Her reluctance to thank me along with her strange yet interesting attitude is pretty entertaining. I let out a laugh, and she eyes me strangely. "Don't hurt yourself," I tell her. I shift my weight a little, and step a little closer to her. She looks at me like I am insane, and I can't help feeling the same. _What are you doing, Cal?_ My gaze flits back to her worn clothes and then to her faded hair. "You live in the village, don't you?" I'm referring to the Red village by this bar, called The Stilts. She obviously knows that, though.

"Yes," she answers, gesturing to herself. But instead of looking down at herself, she looks at me. I understand why- we look very different. Her hair is brown, dirty, and fading, while mine is glossy, clean and black. Her clothes and shoes are dirty and worn, mine are fine and soft. I shift a little, feeling uncomfortable as she stares, and play with my collar. I don't know why I am nervous because of her- a lot of Silvers watch me all the time, crowds and crowds, because I'm the Prince, but one Red and I'm uncomfortable? _Pull yourself together._

My eyes dart around, away from her and back again. I don't even know her name. "Do you enjoy it?" I ask her. "Living there?" She looks strangely like she wants to laugh, but I'm serious about it.

She hesitates a moment, then says, "Does anyone?" _Point taken._ I fall silent, and frown a little. She's poor and doesn't enjoy where she lives. Like all Reds, but this one...

"Are you heading back?" I ask, knowing it's rather sudden, and I gesture down the road.

"Why, scared of the dark?" she shoots back, folding her arms, but she looks even more uncertain than I do. _Well, we're the only two out there- it's logical._

The smile returns on my face, however. She looks strangely comforted, and I wonder how that is- we're strangers. "No," I say, "but I want to make sure you keep your hands to yourself for the rest of the night. Can't have you driving half the bar out of the house and home, can we? I'm Cal, by the way," I add, stretching my hand out to shake. The girl doesn't take it, setting off down the road. It's easy to see how she is a thief, her steps fast and soft, hardly making any noise.

"Mare Barrow," she says over her shoulder.

I catch up to her quickly despite how fast she walks. "So are you always this pleasant?" I ask, strangely curious to know about this Mare Barrow. Mare's hand is still clenched tightly around the silver.

"The lords must pay you well for you to carry whole crowns," she shoots back, obviously not wanting to talk about her _pleasantness_. I retreat immediately, not liking this new topic.

"I have a good job."

"That makes one of us," Mare says gruffly.

"But you're-" I start, confused. She's only a bit younger than me.

"Seventeen," she finishes. "I have some time before conscription."

 _Conscription._ The word makes my lips form a line. I may have been born as a soldier, but she wasn't- I don't know what it is about her, but she's too good for that. For war. My voice is sharp, harder. "How much time?"

"Less every day," she says, like it's casual, but she looks upset.

I gaze at her, more focused on her than the woods around us. I wonder, what job could she be good for? "And there are no jobs," I murmur, half to Mare and half to me. "No way for you to . . . avoid conscription."

Mare looks at me, puzzled. "Maybe things are different where you're from."

"So you steal."

She frowns, her eyes looking even more sad than usual. "It's the best I can do." Her mutter is flat, showing she's obviously uncomfortable. "My sister has a job though." Suddenly she looks conflicted, obviously struggling to keep her face straight. I watch her, thinking about what could have made her so upset. _Maybe something happened at the Hall today?_

"Were you at the Hall today?" Probably she was. "The riots were terrible."

"They were," she forces out in response.

"Did you . . . ," I press in the most quiet way I can muster, and her mouth twists.

A flow of words spills out her mouth, like she is a dam that I poked a hole in, and there, in the darkness, on a lonely road by a pub, Mare tells me everything. How her sister snuck her in so they could get money to survive. How she got her hand broken, and what Mare had done to her and her other family. She sputters about how she disappoints her mother, how she embarrasses her father. How she steals from everyone that is her community. She wails about how terrible she is, to me, a complete stranger. Sometimes she just fumbles around with the words, not making sense, but I don't ask her anything. I let her talk, I let her spill it all out, because I can see how she needs it.

"It's the best I can do," she finishes, and then her voice cracks and breaks.

She needs it more than I do.

She needs everything more than I do.

I slip another coin out of my pocket and press the silver into her hand. My hand is not warm. It is cold, like Mare's hand is. "I'm truly sorry for you, Mare," I tell her, and it's true. "Things shouldn't be like this."

She takes the coin, not even holding it that tightly, like telling everything has sucked away all her strength. She doesn't even frown, just looks defeated. "There are worse lives to live," she answers me. "Don't feel sorry for me."

* * *

The mud, dirt, and overall uncleanliness of the Stilts unsettles me, a stark contrast to everything I've known. Plus, I don't feel like going further and get recognized somehow. And the nobles might get worried. Maybe.

I leave Mare at the edge of the village, leaving to let her walk alone through the town. I left before she could even bother to thank me- I'm not even sure if she would, she's such a strange Red. I don't mind much, anyway.

I don't know why I'm doing this.

I don't know how I'm going to do it either.

There's something about her; something about this poor Red girl- and I don't know what it is, but it's unique.

So I'll get her that job.


	2. Real Winner

"That went well." My stepmother's voice rings out as she snaps her hand away from my father's. "Take the girls to their rooms."

It's not really an order for me or my brother, so some Sentinels break away from the larger group, some stepping closer to Mare and some to Evangeline. On instinct, Maven and I say in unison, "I can do it." We quickly look at each other, both startled.

Elara raises an eyebrow. "That would be inappropriate." Of course.

"I'll escort Mareena, Mavey can take Evangeline," I offer quickly. I notice my brother purse his lips at the nickname- obviously he would, it was a childhood nickname. Elara frowns, but my father simply shrugs.

"Let them, Elara," he says. "The girls need a good night of sleep, and the Sentinels would give any lady bad dreams." He chuckles a little and nods playfully to the guards. As usual, they don't respond. Their silence blends easily with the tense quiet coming from Elara.

"Very well," she snaps after a while, her usual attitude. She turns on her heel, heading the way opposite from my father. Now me, Mare, Maven, and Evangeline stay there in a small silence.

"My room is where, exactly?" Evangeline asks, breaking the silence. She glares at Maven- it's strange how quickly she changes.

My brother gulps. "Uh, this way, miss- ma'am- my lady." I bite down a smile at his stutter. He holds out an arm, but she walks rather quickly past him. "Goodnight Cal, Mareena," Maven says with a sigh, making a point of looking at Mare. I feel strangely annoyed and I don't know why. Mare just nods at him as he turns to walk off. I watch Evangeline go, Mare frowning at my side. After Evangeline and Maven are gone, her hands drop to her sides.

"You picked a real winner," she mumbles, almost under her breath but not quite, when they're gone. My smile dies and I don't answer her for a moment, starting on my way to her room. Despite her fast steps when I first met her, she fights to keep up with me. I feel a little angry, considering how she said _picked,_ like I had a choice- even though she's a Red, she should know that I had no choice in who I picked to be queen.

I finally turn to her, trying to calm my anger. "I didn't pick anything," I say, frowning. "Everyone knows that."

Mare isn't fazed. "At least you knew this was coming," she snaps. "I woke up this morning and didn't even have a _boyfriend."_ I wince at her words, not knowing why in particular. "And, you know, there's the 'you're going to be king' thing. That must be a boost."

I laugh, but it's more at her tone than her actual words. We stop for a moment, and I step forward, looking her up and down. It's strange how someone can change so quickly physically. Now she looks less like a thief and more like a noble, but she's still the same inside. She's smart- too smart for her own good, like Maven always was. It's just as I've always thought- there's something, _something_ unique about her. Not her lightning, not her powers, something deeper. She stares back at me, not saying anything, reading my expression as usual.

"You're a lot like Maven," I eventually tell her.

"You mean engaged to a stranger?" she says. "We do have that in common."

"You're both very smart," I answer, and Mare snorts, as if this is entertaining to her. To explain, I add, "You know people, you understand them, you see through them."

Mare still looks slightly amused, even though I'm serious. "I did a great job of that last night. I _definitely_ knew you were a crown prince the whole time." I know what she's thinking because I'm thinking it too. _What a difference a day makes._

"You knew I didn't belong."

She seems a little sadder now, too, looking up at me with a frown. "So, we've switched places."

Mare drifts into silence, her eyes focused somewhere in the distance. The sadness and upset feeling in her eyes grows and grows as she stares off, and I wonder what she's thinking about. Whatever it is must be pretty bad.

"Are you okay?" I ask her, trying to snap her out of it. It works, at least a little.

"Sorry," she mutters, shaking her head as if to clear it. "Just...thinking."

I realize that she does have a lot to be sad about. So I nod, trying my best to look apologetic for her- it's how I feel, after all. "About your family?" I ask. Clearly, this wasn't a very good thing to say, as her eyes widen, and she suddenly looks sick at the mention of them. Trying my best to calm her- it isn't very nice, watching her get so upset- I add, "I've sent a conscript release for your brothers and your friend, and an officer to your house, to tell your parents where you are." I frown a little. "We can't tell them everything, though."

Mare still frowns, though she nods a little. "They know you work for us and have to live here. but they still think you're a servant. For now, at least. When your life becomes more public, we'll figure out how to deal with them," I tell her.

She seems to accept this explanation, but she lifts her head and asks me, "Can I write to them at least?" Her eyes are just a little hopeful, and I'd hate to crush that.

I shake my head, though. Rules are rules. "I'm sorry, that's just not possible."

"I didn't think so."

I hurry her into her room, watching as motion-activated lights turn quickly on. She looks around the room, looking suddenly uncomfortable. I watch her squirm as she takes in the room, and I frown a little. _It's probably just the letter thing._

"It's for your own protection," I say to Mare. "If anyone were to intercept the letters, to find out about you-"

"Are the _cameras_ in here _for my own protection?_ " she snaps, gesturing to the walls. _What? Cameras?_ She shakes her head a little. "I'm locked in this nightmare place, surrounded by walls and guards and people who will tear me to shreds, and I can't even get a moment's peace in my own room." I blink and look around, searching for cameras in corners or near shelves, but I can't find any.

"Mare," I say slowly, "there aren't any cameras in here."

Mare looks confused for a moment, then dismisses my point with a wave of her hand. "Don't be stupid," she says. "I can feel them."

Feel _them?_ I think. I'm lost- is she messing with me? It doesn't look like it- she seems serious. "Feel them?" I ask, trying to mask my confusion, although judging by her expression, it isn't working. "What do you mean?"

"I-" She cuts herself off, suddenly frowning, like she can't explain it to me. _Maybe it's part of her powers- she controls electricity, after all._

 _But no one has ever_ felt _cameras before._

"I-Is that not...normal?" she asks me, looking upset.

 _No, it really isn't normal, because no one has ever even controlled electricity before. Such a strange thing... But saying that would be rude, and you shouldn't be rude to her.._ I frown a little, trying to find a way to put this right. "Not to my knowledge," I finally say.

She looks down, and when she speaks, her voice is small and tight. "I don't think anything about me is normal anymore."

I open my mouth to say something, anything, to her, but there's nothing I can do to comfort her. I'd probably just make her feel worse.

I hate watching her be upset.


	3. Author's Note, Please Read!

**Hello my friends! Sorry for not updating, like at all recently- real life is getting in the way as it always so tends to do.**

 **Anyway, I just wanted to let you all know my updates might start becoming less frequent. I have a summer project for school which, like the procrastinator I am, I put off until now..so I have to do that. I'll try to write as much as I can for this story though! I really appreciate all the positive reviews you guys have given me~**

 **The next chapter(s?) will be Mare and Cal during the visit to her house in the Stilts, though I'm tempted to split it in two so I can get it out faster...**

 **Thanks for reading my ramble-**

 **~Entr0py**


	4. The Visit (Part One)

I tug the armor off me in bits and pieces, throwing them off to the side. Outside, I faintly hear footsteps. I stop for a moment, listening intently as they stop in front of my door.

"Here we are," my brother says, and I hear a knock soon after. I pull the piece of armor I was already working on off fully, making my way over to the door and opening it. I hear another faint footstep, and I just see my brother. Expecting one of his usual visits, I focus back on my armor.

"Got the board set, Mavey-" I cut myself off when I see movement at his side, and glance up. _OH._ Mare stands beside him, brown eyes wide, staring at me. _This is- this is awkward.._ "Mare, how can I, uh- what can I do for you?" I stumble a little over my words. We haven't seen each other for a week or so- and this is how we meet again..?

"I'm not exactly sure," responds Mare, stuttering a little as well. She glances back and forth from me to Maven. My brother smirks, raising an eyebrow slightly.

"For being the good son, my brother has his own discretions," Maven says with a playful air. Mare smirks a little, and I grin slightly as well, rolling my eyes. Maven turns to Mare and continues, "You wanted to go home, and I've found you someone who's been there before."

Mare blinks and then suddenly a look of realization dawns on her face. _Of course. We met at the tavern- and Maven knows how I leave the castle._ I grit my teeth- it'd be hard to do this now, with all the security and people staying here- and Mare's been here for a while, she'd get in huge trouble if someone found out. "Maven," I say, trying to reason with them. "You know she can't. It's not a good idea-"

"Liar," Mare says loudly. I turn to her, and she stares back at me, her eyes desperate and yet determined. We stare at each other for a moment before Maven speaks.

"We've taken everything from her, brother," he argues, and I frown a little. "Surely we can give her this?"

I sigh, and look back and forth between the two. Finally I nod and gesture for her to enter. Mare beams and hurries inside, more excited then I've ever seen her. Maven stays at my door, and Mare glances back at him.

"You're not coming," she says.

"You'll have enough to worry about without me tagging along."

Mare pauses and then throws her arms around him. My brother blushes a bright silver, and I bite back a frown, feeling a strange annoyance watching him drop an arm around her shoulders. _Stop it, Cal, you idiot._ That doesn't stop me from feeling a strange relief when she pulls back from him, though.

Maven takes a moment to tear his eyes away from her to me. "Don't be too long," he tells me.

I smirk slightly. "You act like I've never done this before."

We laugh together as we always used to when we were younger, then Maven says his goodbyes and closes the door behind him. Mare's eyes drift around my room, examining every intricate detail, from my armor to my books. I just barely catch her poking around on my table- the one essentially overflowing with books- before I slip into my closet, looking for the outfit I wore on the night I first met her. I can't have that many outfits that aren't, well, _royal_ , because someone would notice and get suspicious. With only one or two, nobody _really_ notices. Or cares, anyway.

I finally pick them out amidst my other clothing, and pull off the rest of my armor so I can put them on. I pause for a moment just as I'm about to pull on the shirt and call out, "We won't have much time to visit."

There's a pause in her footsteps, and she hesitates a moment before answering. I smirk a little, entertained at her slight pause. She finally says, "As long as I get to see my family," and I hear her footsteps start up again as she wanders around my room. Pulling on the servant shirt and pants, I finally step back out into the main room where Mare waits.

* * *

I lead her quickly through the residence floors. We move downward quickly so we don't get caught- I know how to do this well, since I've done it many times before. After a while, we turn the corner, entering the wide storage room. Mare examines the room, mostly eyeing the armored shapes and other things that I've built. After a moment of looking around, she turns to me, frowning.

"It's a dead end," she protests.

"Yes, Mare, I brought you to a dead end." I turn to the third row and start walking down it. Mare follows me. Despite her other changes, her footsteps are still quick and quiet like they were when we first met, hardly making a sound in the empty storage area. The sheets ripple as we pass, some letting us see a glint of shiny material underneath. Mare notices this and stops.

"More armor?" she asks, poking one of the shapes. "I was going to say, you should probably get some more. Didn't seem like you had enough upstairs." I try to stop myself from rolling my eyes at her words, smirking the slightest bit. "Actually, you might want to put some on," she continues, and my smile dies. "My brothers are pretty huge and like to beat on people." She glances back to me, starting to move again.

I stand a few paces down, in front of what I know is my cycle. I shake my head and reply, "I think I'll be fine without it. Besides, I look like a Security officer in that stuff. We don't want your family getting the wrong idea, do we?"

Mare raises an eyebrow. "What idea do we _want_ them to get? I don't think I'm exactly allowed to introduce you properly."

"I work with you, we got a leave pass for the night. Simple," I tell her, shrugging. Mare hesitates for a moment, then seems to accept this, as she moves to stand closer.

"So why would you come with me? What's the story there?"

I grin at her, gesturing to my cycle, which is covered, like everything else, by a sheet. "I'm your ride," I say, smirking.

I throw the sheet back, showing the gleaming thing off to her. Her mouth drops open a little, her eyes skimming over the leather seat, two wheels, lights, chrome, and black paint. "It's a cycle," I explain proudly, running a hand over the silver handlebars. "Fast, agile, and it can go where transports can't.

Mare eyes it uncertainly, and I know her words before she even says them. "It looks- like a death trap," she sputters, eyes wide. I let out a laugh, pulling a helmet from the back of the seat, and she stares at it just as uncertainly as she had stared at the cycle itself.

"That's what Father said, and Colonel Macanthos. They won't mass-produce it for the armies yet, but I'll win them over. Haven't crashed once since I perfected the wheels."

She looks up at me, awed. " _You_ built it?" she says. I shrug in response, but I enjoy her praise on the inside. "Wow."

"Just wait until you ride it," I say, holding the helmet out. The far wall jolts as I do so, groaning as it begins to slide away, revealing the now-clear night.

Mare laughs, taking a step back. "That's not happening." I smirk in response, swinging one leg over the cycle and sitting in the seat, turning the engine on. It rumbles on, and Mare eyes the thing with trepidation.

"It's perfectly safe, I promise," I shout over the engine, watching as the headlights flicker to life. I glance back to her, meeting her chocolate-brown eyes, and I stretch out a hand. "Mare?"

She sighs, sliding the helmet onto her head, and I grin.

 **A/N- So yeah, this is only part one, but I thought you guys would be happier if I got it out earlier instead of just that A/N chapter. Anyway, thanks for reading!**


	5. The Visit (Part Two)

**A/N- Wow- so** **many positive reviews, aaah thank you guys ;w;**

As always, the feeling of driving the cycle is one of the best in the world. It's a fast, smooth ride, blowing my hair back in my face. Well, it's not _exactly_ smooth, considering all the holes and bumps, but I swerve and dodge around them as smoothly as I can manage. I scan my surroundings as I go, watching the trees and nature pass by. I let the cycle coast to a stop a short walk away from the Stilts. I wait for Mare to let go, only to realize that she's clinging onto me really tightly. I bite back a small smile and pry her off. She leans back a little.

"Fun, right?" I say, letting myself smile a little as I power down the cycle. I hop off easily, energized by the exhilarating cycle ride, while Mare grunts and takes a little longer to slide off. She rubs her back a little, apparently sore, as she looks around.

"It won't be my first choice in transportation," she replies.

"Remind me to take you up in an airjet sometime. You'll stick to cycles after that," I say, laughing slightly. I roll the cycle off the road, into the woods as I always do, throwing branches and leaves over it. Mare watches as I step back, raising an eyebrow as her eyes skim the camouflaged cycle. She hesitates a moment, then looks up to me.

"You do this a lot, I see," she says.

I frown, turning back to her. Sticking one hand in my pocket, I respond, "Palaces can get . . . stuffy."

"And crowded bars, Red bars, aren't?" Mare says, pushing the topic. I start walking toward the village at a fast pace, frowning.

Eventually, I settle with saying, "I don't go out to drink, Mare."

"So, what," says Mare, "you just catch pickpockets and hand out jobs willy-nilly?"

Her words make me skid to a halt, whirl around, and burst into laughter. Mare knocks into me, stumbling back a little. "Did you just say..willy-nilly?" I say between my laughter.

Mare lets herself smile, and she gives me a little shove, making me laugh harder. "Just answer the question," she says, shaking her head a little, though she's still grinning widely. I calm myself down in a moment, though my smile still stays.

Even that fades, too, though, as I explain myself to her. "I don't do this for myself. You have to understand, Mare. I don't-" I let out a sigh. "I'm going to be king one day. I don't have the luxury of being selfish."

Mare stares at me, a frown tugging at her mouth. "I'd think the king would be the only person _with_ that luxury," she says.

I feel a strange rush of anger, and take a deep breath, trying to remind myself that Mare is new to the whole Silver world, the whole noble hierarchy, that she's a Red girl with Silver powers from the Stilts, used to mud and poverty and thieves, and that being angry over that statement is irrational. I shake my head. "I wish that were true," I say, clenching my fists open and closed, trying to blow off steam. Eventually I calm myself, and feel a wave of regret- I'm letting my temper get ahead of me again. I start walking slower, starting to speak again.

"A king should know his people," I explain, rather quietly. "That's why I sneak out. I do it in the captial, too, and at the war front. I like to see how things really are in the kingdom, instead of being told by advisers and diplomats. That's what a good king would do."

Even then, it's against the rules, which are things I strive to follow. It's against everything I've been raised to follow, the "strength" and "power," but I know it's right, even if in the eyes of others I should be ashamed of it. Mare stares at me for just a second, her eyes unreadable. I don't think she's ashamed of me, though. Mare is different than them like that.

"And what do you see, Cal?" Mare questions, gesturing out to the Stilts. She looks almost excited, but I know this conversation isn't at all the cause.

I let out a sigh. The answer isn't at all what she'd like for me to say, but I guess that's what this world is like. "I see the world on the edge of a blade. Without balance, it will fall." Mare frowns, looking irritated. "You don't know how precarious things are, how close this world is to falling back into ruin," I try to explain. "My father does everything to keep us all safe, and so will I."

She just shakes her head a little, almost unconsciously. "My world is already in ruin," she replies sharply, kicking the muddy road. She looks natural, comfortable here, so much different then in the Hall. "Your father keeps _your_ people people safe, not mine," she spits.

I turn to her, frowning. "Changing the world has costs, Mare. Many would die, Reds most of all. And in the end, there wouldn't be a victory, not for you. You don't know the bigger picture," I tell her.

"So tell me," she says flatly, though the way she bristles at my words gives her away. "Show me the bigger picture."

"The Lakelands, they're like us, a monarchy, nobles, a Silver elite to rule the rest," I explain, almost reciting what I've learned from memory. "And the Piedmont princes, our own allies, would never back a nation where Reds are equal. Prairie and Tiraxes are the same. Even _if_ Norta changed, the rest of the continent would not let it last. We would be invaded, divided, torn apart. More war, more death."

Mare frowns as she takes in my words. I can almost see the gears turning in her head. "What if you're wrong? What if Norta is the beginning? The change others need?" she argues, taking the more optimistic approach. "You don't know where freedom leads."

I don't answer. This argument could continue for a long time if I did, plus, she _does_ have a point, however much I don't like to admit it to myself. The silence between us is bitter, and we walk carefully through the village to her house.

* * *

 **(Going to skip the actual scene in her house here, so I'll just be going to the scenes where they're leaving the village.)**

Mare and I carefully make our way back through the Stilts. Her gaze is focused on some point in the distance, and to be honest, I don't blame her. If Maven died, I would probably- no, definitely- be just as devastated. She moves through the village just fine, but she has a hollow, sad, yet angry look in her eyes. I hesitate a moment, though Mare keeps moving.

"I'm sorry about your brother," I blurt out, though it's genuine. "I didn't know he-"

"-was already dead?" finishes Mare, sounding angry. She doesn't seem angry at me, just angry at everyone in general. She takes a deep breath, as if to calm herself. Her frown deepens, as if she's thinking, then she glances back to me.

"I need to make one more stop." She flashes me a smile, as if that helps convince me. "It won't take long at all, I promise."

Usually, I'd say no, but considering she just found out her brother was dead, I should at least do _something_ for her. So I nod slowly, her smile widening just a bit.

 **PAGE BREAK**

It's a good five or ten minutes later when Mare reapproaches me by the woods. She looks a lot happier from what she'd done at where she had gone. I look over occasionally at her, but I don't push it. She probably wouldn't tell me anyway, and I doubt it's that important. She still confuses me, and not because of her ability- she's fiery when she needs to be, but rather caring at other times. I just can't exactly pin her down. We walk in silence until we actually enter the woods, and something occurs to me.

I turn to her, my expression serious. "I'll have to talk to the queen about changing your schedule."

Mare raises her eyebrows, pleasantly confused. "Why?"

As gently as I can, I reply, "You almost exploded in there. You'll have to go into Training with us, to make sure something like that doesn't happen again."

She's silent for a moment, contemplating this. Her lessons, from what Julian's said, train her, too, but obviously not enough.

"Well, if it gets me out of Protocol, I won't say no," she finally quips in reply.

I'm about to answer when I jump back from my cycle, knowing that there's another person around. "Someone's watching us," I breathe, letting fire snake around and light up my hands. Mare doesn't question me, looking around, alert.

Instead, her friend from earlier- Kilorn or something- steps out. I let the fire on my hands fade out. "Oh, you."

Kilorn looks from Mare to me, his gaze hardening into a glare. As condescending as he could possibly be, he bows his head. "Excuse me, _Your Highness._ "

I stand up straighter, knowing it's not worth arguing with him. I turn away, going back to pulling leaves and bushes away from my cycle. I do watch Mare though, feeling strangely protective of her. I blame this on the fact that she's Maven's betrothed, though this fact seemingly irritates me further.

"You're really doing this?" he's asking, sounding hurt. "You're really leaving? To be one of them?"

Mare hesitates, just for a moment, then says, "You saw what happened in there, what I can do. They can _help_ me." I pull the cycle out fully, letting it shine with moonlight as she lies. It's pretty convincing, actually. "I'm where I'm supposed to be." Any other person would think she's telling the truth- I don't, because I've heard her valid complaints and seen her desire to visit home.

"Mare," I warn, trying to be patient. She glances to me, but Kilorn doesn't.

"I have to go," says Mare, trying to push past. He holds onto her tightly, like a lifeline, despite her attempts to pull away.

Kilorn doesn't let go. "Mare, please-"

Well, I know when enough is enough. Crossing to Mare, the anger rising in me warming the air around us, I stand over her. "Let her go," I snap, loudly. Kilorn looks up, scoffing at me, but he pulls back anyway, his fingers trailing across her arm in a way that makes me strangely uncomfortable. Still, I cool the air down anyway. I still stand over her, just in case. . .

"You bargained for me too, to save me from conscription," Kilorn is saying."You have a bad habit of trying to save me."

Mare nods, just a little. I lead her over to the cycle, sinking down in the seat, and she slides the helmet onto her head as she follows and gets on the seat behind me. He backs away, wincing at the noise of the cycle as it revs up. He turns to Mare and smirks at her, saying, "I'll tell Farley you said hello."

The cycle rips us away from the Stilts without another word from either of us, eating up the moonlit road.

 **A/N: Woo! Finally, I've got this done. I am SO SORRY for the wait! I've had such bad writer's block, aaaaah. This was the longest chapter so far, over 3,000 words if you include Part 1! I hope you guys still liked this. -Entr0py**


	6. Send-off

**A/N: Hey** **guys!** **Sorry for the wait (again), life has been busy at the moment, as always.**

A flash of brown hair catches my attention from where I'm standing. I turn my head to catch Mare ducking away from the soldiers and the crowd to a half-hidden alcove. I murmur an "I'll be back" to my father and slip away from him and Maven, the latter of which gives me a strange look but doesn't question me. I carefully slip through the crowd to the alcove hidden by plants, making sure I'm not stopped by anyone along the way. Eventually when I reach the alcove, I see Mare leaning on the wall, her expression bitter as she looks at some point in the distance.

"Everything okay?" I ask, feeling worried. Her unease seems to always set me on edge, and I'm never exactly sure why. Mare looks up at me, looking quite like she doesn't want to talk to me at all, but her spine straightens.

"I'm not a fan of beauty pageants," she replies, almost coldly, but it doesn't seem to be directed at me, just everyone in general.

I frown at her. _Beauty pageants?_ They're going to _war._ Wouldn't she care about that? "Mare, they're going to the front. I'd think you of all people would want to give them a proper send-off."

Mare laughs in my face, but it's humorless and bitter. "What part of my life makes you think I'd _care_ about these brats going off to war like it's some kind of vacation?" It's strange, how she talks about war, with dread and horror and bitterness, in comparison to how I talk about war. _Like it's some kind of vacation._ Do I really talk about it like that?

"Just because they've chosen to go doesn't make them less brave," I argue.

"Well," snaps Mare, "I hope they enjoy their barracks and supplies and reprieves and all the things my brothers were never given." She looks annoyed, and spits venom with every word.

I take a deep breath, swallowing the urge to yell at her. No matter how much I like Mare, sometimes, she's really frustrating. After being sure that I've calmed myself down enough, I continue on with my speech.

"This is the first completely Silver legion going into the trenches." My voice is even, thankfully. I've had lots of practice. "They're going to fight with the Reds, dressed as Reds, serving with Reds. The Lakelanders won't know who they are when they get to the Choke. And when the bombs fall, when the enemy rises to take the line, they're going to get more than they bargained for. The Shadow Legion will take them all."

Mare stares, looking conflicted. "..Original," she finally says.

I feel a wave of sadness. For everything infuriating about her, there's a good something that'll make me miss Mare a lot when I'm at the front. "You gave me the idea."

"What?" she says.

"When you fell into Queenstrial, no one knew what to do. I'm sure the Lakelanders will feel the same."

Mare opens her mouth to speak, then closes it, shocked or surprised or some other emotion like that- I can't quite tell. She doesn't look away from me though. We both stare at each other, in a heavy silence for a long while, both of us clearly wanting to say something but being unable to.

Oliver, the windweaver who is also going to war, claps a hand on my shoulder. He's obviously drunk, his cheeks tinged slightly silver. "What's with the hiding, Cal?" he says, chuckling and gesturing to the mob of people. "Next to the Lakelanders, this bunch will be easy!"

I meet Mare's eyes, feeling my cheeks heat up slightly. "I'll take the Lakelanders any day." Neither of our gazes waver from the other's, Mare's eyes glowing with strange emotion.

"You're going with them?" she says.

Oliver answers instead, grinning widely. "Going? Cal's leading us! His own legion, all the way to the front." I shift slowly out of Oliver's grip, watching Mare slowly process this information, her eyes widening ever so slightly. "He'll be the youngest general in history and the first prince to fight on the lines," Oliver continues. Mare frowns. It's during moments like these that I wish I could read what's going on in her head.

I expect her to not respond, but instead she reaches out and grasps my arm. Her eyes trail to mine, and for just a moment, she looks like that Red girl on the road, the one who, in her eyes, was responsible for so much pain that she just couldn't handle it. She looks like the Red girl who was vulnerable, who needed someone to talk to, even if that someone was a complete stranger.

"When?" she says, in a voice that is strong but is quiet enough to be a whisper.

"When you leave for the capital, after the ball," I murmur. "You'll go south, and I'll go north."

Mare lets go of my arm, something like fear swimming in her eyes. I keep forgetting about her bad memories with people being sent off to the war.

"With Cal on the lines, this war will finally be over," says Oliver, grinning widely still. "With Cal, we can win." He takes me by the shoulder, steering me back to the party. Maven presses past us, towards Mare. I can feel her eyes on me as we move away, blotting out whatever conversation she and Maven are having.

I shake hands with my father, smiling widely for the people. I can feel everyone's gaze on me, but that's fine.

"My son the general!" he shouts, his voice proud. My smile is genuine, now- his proud voice is something to strive for in my eyes. He pulls me close, putting an arm around me, one of the last times he will before I go to war. When my father lets me go, my eyes scan the crowd again, finding Mare.

I think I have an idea.


	7. Practice

_This is a very stupid idea._

It's a sort of thing I've been thinking a lot lately. And I've also found that I've been thinking it in situations involving Mare. _Whatever,_ I think, walking carefully down the hallways and corridors of the Hall. It's long, long after dinner- so no one, including me, is busy, and no one would want to bother me. Good thing, too. I'm certain it'd look weird if someone saw the crown prince, who already has a fiancee, visiting his brother's betrothed in the middle of the night, alone.

 _That's because it is weird,_ I remind myself, almost bitterly.

I reach her door, which is a good walk away from mine, and I knock easily on the door, hoping she's still awake. I swing the door open anyway- she's not _supposed_ to answer- and see Mare sitting rather quietly on the edge of her bed, dressed only in her pajamas.

She goes rather pink as soon as she sees me, slipping slightly further back on the bed. I don't blame her. "Cal? What do you need?"

I shrug, letting myself smirk at her. "Evangeline almost killed you in the ring today."

Mare quirks her eyebrows, looking almost offended. "So?"

"So I don't want her to kill you on the dance floor."

Mare finally gets out of bed, leaning against the wall, closer to me. "Did I miss something? Are we going to be fighting at the ball?"

I laugh at that, leaning against her doorframe. "If you know how to dance properly," I reply, "you won't have to." She stares at me, clearly not getting it. "I'm a surprisingly good teacher," I continue, letting myself smile slightly. I stretch out a hand to her.

Her blush darkens, and I think I catch her shiver. She stares at my hand for a moment, not doing or saying anything.

 _Stupid stupid stupid. Of course she won't._

I almost jump when I feel her shaky hand slip into mine, but I smile, just a little, and pull her out into the hall.

* * *

Eventually, I pulled Mare into the most secluded sitting room I could find- no one would ever bother coming in here. Mare watches quietly as I push and pull chairs and small tables around, eventually stopping, satisfied, when I've made enough space for us to dance in. I slip a small speaker out of my pocket, setting it down in the middle of the floor. I wait for the music to start, smiling a little wider notice Mare staring, confused.

"Can that thing teach me how to dance?" Mare says, glancing over to me.

I shake my head easily. "No, but it'll help."

The music finally bursts into life, and my smile widens in response. I've always liked this song. My foot taps quickly along with the music, and I glance over at Mare to see her doing the same. Eventually she starts trying to fit the steps she's learned into the song, and I laugh. "Don't worry about that, just keep moving." I let myself spin as a drumbeat starts up, humming quickly along with it. Mare watches quietly for a moment, before she starts dancing, too. She isn't even that good, but she's strangely graceful, with the easy, quiet steps and spins. I guess the shadows are good for more than just thieving.

I've always liked dancing. I don't know how weird that seems, but I don't care much, either. It's a distraction; it gives you something to do when there's nothing else, giving you something else to do then just sitting down, and it feels free.

When the notes fade away, Mare's expression changes from a strangely peaceful one to one shifting with emotions, one I can't place. She glances to me once, then looks away, like she's embarrassed. Finally, she says, "This probably isn't the best idea, Cal."

I tilt my head ever-so-slightly to the side. It looked like she was enjoying it. "Why's that?"

Mare's cheeks go a light pink, hardly visible in the silver moonlight. "I'm not even supposed to be alone with Maven." She stutters, her blush darkening with the words. "I don't know if dancing with you in a dark room is exactly okay."

I let out a laugh and shrug. She's making it sound so much worse than it actually is- well, to me at least. I listen as the next song, slower and softer, starts to play before I reply. "The way I see it, I'm doing my brother a favor." I meet her eyes and grin slightly, though the subject of her dancing with Maven annoys me somehow. "Unless you want to step on his feet all night?"

Mare crosses her arms in response. "I have _excellent_ footing, thank you very much," she replies.

I reach out, slowly taking her hand. "Maybe in the ring. The dance floor, not so much." I pull her as gently as I can along with my movements as she looks at my feet, but she eventually stumbles, pretty much falling against me. I flash a victorious smile at her, and she rolls her eyes, though it seems like an unconscious effect. "This is the same timing as most of the songs you'll hear at the ball. It's a simple dance, easy to learn." I try talking to distract myself from the weird feeling striking through me at her closeness.

"I'll find some way to mess it up," she mumbles, as our feet trace a rough box, her hair swaying ever-so-slightly with the movement.

"You might," I murmur gently in response. She glances up at me, finally, staring up at me in silence. I glance to where her wound was, my eyes slipping carefully over her face.

"Maven fixed you up nicely." I didn't _mean_ to sound bitter...but the idea of Maven and Mare alone unsettles me, for some reason that I'm working on understanding.

"It was Julian," replies Mare quietly. "Julian and Sara Skonos." My jaw tightens; Sara brings back bad, bad memories for me. Though I doubt Mare knows that; no one besides Maven, Julian, and my father does. "Why don't you two like her?"

"Maven has his reasons, good reasons. But it's not my story to tell." I pause for a moment. "And I don't _dislike_ Sara. I just don't- I don't like thinking about her."

"Why?" Mare questions, almost innocently. "What's she done to you?"

"Not to me," I murmur. "She grew up with Julian and...my mother. She was her best friend. And when she died, Sara didn't know how to grieve. Julian was a wreck, but Sara..." I pause, half because I dislike talking about it and half because I don't exactly know how to explain it to Mare. We stop dancing, but I hardly notice. What we're discussing is much more important.

"I don't remember my mother. I wasn't even a year old when she died," I explain, my voice gaining a sharp edge. "I only knows what my father tells me, and Julian. And neither of them like to talk about her at all."

"I'm sure Sara could tell you about her, if they were best friends," replies Mare, sounding confused.

"Sara Skonos can't speak, Mare," I murmur.

Her eyes widen. "At all?"

"She said things she shouldn't have, terrible lies, and she was punished for it," I reply, as calm as I can muster.

Mare essentially shudders under my hands. "What..what did she say?"

I go cold. Literally. _I can't say that, no no no.._ I back away from her and her prying questions, quickly pocketing the speaker. Mare stares, silent at me. There's something I can't place in her eyes.

"I don't want to talk about her anymore," I say, the thoughts overwhelming me, making me breathe heavily. I glance from Mare to the window and back again, not able to look at her for that long.

She sounds hurt. "Okay."

I move quickly towards the door, glad for an excuse to not look at her, to not seem weak in front of her. I take another deep breath and turn back to her.

"Practice your steps," I say, as calmly as I can manage-which seems to be too calm, because Mare looks unsettled. "Same time tomorrow." With that, I exit the sitting room quickly. I hear her mutter something, but I'm too far gone.


	8. One Last Kiss

Mare is distracted when we meet up again.

It's sort of obvious. Her dancing is bad- well, worse than usual, even though she _was_ getting better- and her gaze is distant. Ever few minutes or so she looks back at me, snapping out of her distant look and giving me a small smile, as if to assure me she's all right. I'm not exactly reassured, and I don't have to pretend to be, because I doubt she'd notice. But we still spin easily across the floor, and she's not stumbling or stepping on my feet anymore. Though it isn't anything that matters in comparison to her distracted look.

When she seems to be coming back again, I slowly guide her so her body dips in a slow arc. She yelps almost immediately, and I quickly slide my arms around her, pulling her back to her feet smoothly and easily.

"Sorry," I apologize, glancing away in embarrassment. "Thought you were ready for it."

Mare laughs, but it's clearly forced. Her eyes gleam with something I can't place, though it looks like fear. "No, my fault. Mind wandered off again."

It seems like an excuse, but I can't help but keep pushing, so I can help her somehow. "Still worried about the ball?" I ask, tilting my head downwards slightly so I look into her eyes.

"More than you know," she replies.

"One step at a time," I say with a small smile, "that's the best you can do." I laugh a little at myself. We slowly move into easier, simpler steps. "I know it's hard to believe, but I wasn't always the best dancer either."

She grins at me in response, and it's genuine this time. "How shocking," she replies, still smiling slightly. "I thought princes were born with the ability to dance and make idle conversation."

I let myself laugh again, our pace starting to pick up again. "Not me. If I had my way, I'd be in the garage or barracks, building and training. Not like Maven. He's twice the prince I'll ever be," I reply, though my voice softens at the last sentence.

Mare looks at the ground, looking uncertain. I wonder what she's thinking about now. "But he'll only ever be a prince." Her voice is soft, lamenting at her words. "And you'll be a king."

"Sometimes I wish it didn't have to be that way."

Mare is silent, taking in my words. She doesn't respond, but looks me up and down instead, taking her time like it's the first time she's really seen me. I guess it is, really, with all the reputation and image I need to uphold, the way I need to act in public. Part of that image is me, but I still have to hide some things. _She_ has to hide everything; her heart, her words, her _blood_. It's something she doesn't deserve, something I find myself feeling guilty about whenever I think about her, and how her hands are rough from work like mine, and how she smells like flowers, and how her brown eyes are usually hard but soften ever-so-slightly with her smiles.

"Are you really going to go with the legion?" Her voice, quiet and timid, shakes me out of my thoughts.

I nod slightly. The pain in her voice hurts. "A general's place is with his men," I murmur.

"A prince's place is with his princess." She pauses, then quickly adds, "With Evangeline."

 _With Evangeline._ Not exactly the princess I'd like to be with. Our steps slow until we stop, though I hardly notice it, because of all the thoughts swarming my head. "She'll be all right, I think." I glance down at her, looking to her eyes. "She's not exactly attached to me. I won't miss her either."

Mare takes a deep breath, looking away from my eyes and to my chest. Her eyes are especially soft tonight, sparkling and flashing with strange emotions I can't place. I take a ragged breath, the air around us thickening and warming, heating up with my feelings.

My fingers slip under her chin, and I tip her head up gently, meeting her eyes. We both breathe heavily, struck by the moment. "I'll miss you, Mare," I whisper, and her eyes bore into mine.

She takes another deep breath, and shakes her head slowly, backing away, but it looks reluctant. Or at least, I hope it is reluctant. Even though I'm the one controlling the heat, the space feels strangely colder without her so close, without everything about her near me. When she blinks again, nearly at the door, her eyes are wet. I'm not sure why, I'm not sure how.

"I can't," she chokes out, blinking back the tears.

I know this is a stupid idea. Just about everything I've ever done with Mare has been a stupid idea, and we've both known it this whole time. Anyone who could see what we're doing would know. But now, I don't care. I couldn't possibly care, _no one_ could make me care.

I usually follow the rules, but they don't matter now. Not with Mare. Not anymore.

I reach out and grab her gently by the hand, not even bothering to lace our fingers, and I pull her quickly closer to me. I don't care who could be affected by this, what I'm betraying, how many rules I'm breaking.

Her lips are soft, enticing. They taste like vanilla, a yearning, longing feeling, sparking like electricity- but the good kind.

I expect her to pull away, I expect _me_ to pull away. But I know we both can't, we both won't. She slips her arms back around me, and I should be thinking about how risky this is and how stupid this is, but all I'm thinking about is how good it feels.

I know I'll never forget it; not now, not ever.

 **A/N; I finally got some ACTUAL real inspiration for this story..wow! Or maybe it's just because it was this scene..hehe.**


	9. Guns and Roses

Evangeline and I don't exchange looks as we enter the hall where the others are waiting, though she essentially is hanging off my arm. Maven is standing by his mother, while Mare is rising from a bow directed towards my father. I call out loudly, "Are we just about ready?"

All eyes shift to me, even Mare, who essentially spins to look at me. She looks just about sick as her eyes skim me over; something that makes her look quite like she wants to throw up. Part of me hopes that it's just the ball, that it's just the nerves and the pressure getting to her. A deeper part of me, though, knows that what happened last night is truly the cause, that it's _me._ I push that part of me down, deep down, because it's something I don't want to accept. That I made her feel like that.

I try to hold her gaze, but she averts her eyes, looking to Evangeline instead, who wears the most confident expression possible without smirking- one directed only to Mare. But then she glances over to the King and Queen, dipping into a curtsy. "Your Majesties."

My father smiles widely at her, then claps a hand down on my shoulder, turning his grin to me. "Just waiting on you, son." I glance to the other side of the room, where Mare, Maven, and Elara stand. Elara grips Maven's arm, while Maven watches us. Mare stands further away from them, watching me. I meet her gaze, and nod slowly, so much it's hardly noticeable. She dips her head just a bit in response.

They're the only greetings we can muster, and the only greetings we deserve.

* * *

I glance down the line to see Maven hurrying Mare away from the line, both of them looking troubled. The Lerolans look unsettled, then move on to me. We make pleasant conversation- I guess- but every so often I look down the line again, just to see if Mare and Maven are back. They aren't, every time, even when the line has dwindled and everyone is filling the ballroom. I slip to the archway I saw them go through.

They stand at the edge of a balcony, Mare leaning on the railing, Maven in front of her. They are close, too close for my liking. Apparently they had a good talk. Or something else I don't want to think about. "You two all right out here?"

They both turn to me, and I silently curse myself for letting my voice break like that. My eyes linger on Mare, who stares at me. "You ready for this, Mare?" I say.

She doesn't answer, but Maven does. "She's ready."

They walk past me together, but Mare lags behind just a little. I brush her arm with my fingertips as she passes, and she starts, turning her head to look back at me. She doesn't stop walking, but her eyes are soft.

Evangeline appears at my side, and she looks away.

* * *

The crowd is thick. Many people are dancing now, swirling and twirling easily along the floor, while others are grouped together in the space the dance floor doesn't occupy. Father and I stand in the head of the crowd, him drinking wine and laughing. I sip at water, listening to him and smiling. It's good to see him relax once in a while.

Nothing could go wrong.

 _Apparently, Mare doesn't think that,_ I note inwardly as I find her pushing her way to the middle of the crowd. While others have flushes of silver on their cheeks or big smiles and easy eyes or laughter, she doesn't. Her eyes are worried, slipping and sliding all over the room, but distant. They focus on me, and I grin at her, not bothering to tell my father where I'm going as I start to go towards her. The corner of her lip twitches upwards in what I assume is a sad attempt at a smile, but her eyes are still distracted.

I might not have noticed the bright flashes of guns without the bangs that came with them.

I jump, and everyone around the ballroom screams. The lights flicker and flash with them, then die fully, the ballroom plunging into darkness.

My jaw clenches as I skim the room for the attackers. They're not _anywhere-_ I don't understand until just as someone screams, "In the alcoves!" _Of course._ "Find them!" more voices scream, and I don't join in- it's too dark, too dark to see. I grit my teeth and a snake of fire shoots out above on my command, sparking and flaming above, the ballroom glowing with it.

It's a mess- glowing red and bloody, people -including my father, Maven, and Elara- hurrying frantically to escape. People weep and cry and tremble as they run, not helping anyone else, and I don't blame them, to be honest. As I hurry towards the Sentinels, another horrifying thought hits me- _where's Mare?_

A terrible shriek gives me my answer, ringing out over the pounding of footsteps and sobbing. I twist my head back, only to see it's _her,_ on the ground and covered in blood and _screaming_.

"MARE!"

I jolt towards her, grabbing her and pulling her away from someone's dead body- I don't know, I don't care. She thrashes against me, and I cry out, "Mare, please-," and she stops, just for a moment.

Instead of thrashing, she screams again, and the lights pulse back on again. With the return of the lights, she tries to push herself to her feet, trembling. _Don't do that._ I push her back down, and she desperately mumbles something in response, something like "sorry-" and "-can't-" which do absolutely nothing to calm me.

"Where are you hit?" I shout as I drop down next to her. My fingers skim down her legs and arms, feeling for flesh or more blood, but I don't find anything.

She mumbles something again, shaking her head slightly. Louder, she says, "Cal, I'm fine."

It's all I can do not to sigh in relief, let alone resist the incredible urge to kiss her. I take a deep breath to return my senses and say, "You're sure?"

She lifts her arm in response, showing off her sleeve, which drips a thick silver. "How can this be mine?" she says, and I'm glad for the noise to cover us here. Her voice practically screams, _You know that._

I nod to myself. My voice is soft as I whisper, "Of course." I glance down as I mutter, "I just- I saw you on the ground and I thought.." _That's not something I want to think about._ Then I glance around again, pushing that thought away- she needs to get out of here, or else that _will_ happen. "Lucas! Get her out of here!"

Lucas hurries over at my call, pushing through the still fleeing Silvers. "I'll take her to the others," he says, hoisting her up from her position on the ground.

She grabs my arm as soon as she's up. "What about you?" she says.

I shrug out of her grip. "I'm not running," I say. I turn away from her and make my way to the Sentinels. One tosses me a handgun, and I catch it easily, igniting my other hand with dark flames. I can feel Mare staring after me.

"Let's go hunting."


	10. Torture

The Red servants are thrown roughly into the cell, each one wincing except for the blonde one, the one who appears on all of the broadcasts. The cell bars weave back to their original positions as Evangeline turns on her heel and leaves. I wipe at the red blood staining my uniform, taking in one last glance of the pitiful traitors.

Suddenly, my eyes widen as they land on the last servant. I remember him- his bottle green eyes are familiar.

 _He's from Mare's village._ "You," I whisper to him, and he smirks at me.

"Me," he says. _He isn't just from Mare's village,_ I realize. _He's Mare's_ friend. _Why would she do something like this? Did she know this would happen?_ I spin on my heel and turn away, thinking of Mare's distant, upset eyes. She needs to explain some things. I walk to Evangeline's side, and she glances to me, her cheeks still wet.

"To the bunker?" she says, in an attempt to be bored, but her voice trembles. I merely nod, and we quickly set off on our way. On our way down, the Queen and Lucas pass us briskly. They don't look at us. Evangeline forces the door open, walking through, and I follow, not bothering to stop the red blood dripping from my hands. Everyone is already looking at the doorway, so their eyes latch onto us immediately. Mare stares at my uniform, her eyes wide and disturbed at the mess of red.

"Mare," I say angrily. "Come with me. Now."

Everyone follows anyway as I turn quickly back to walk to the cells. Mare's breaths are frightened and shallow. _She knows I've found him,_ I think. I glance back to see Maven's hand grabbing onto Mare's shoulder. He knows how afraid she is; he knows it all.

Evangeline, whose eyes are dry now, turns to me. "You should've killed him where he stood," she claims, picking at the red blood on my shirt. "I wouldn't leave the Red devil alive."

I glance backwards again. Mare bites her lip, like her teeth are a seal on her mouth. She bites so hard I'm surprised her lips aren't bleeding. Maven's hand is even tighter on her shoulder. They both look terrified, though I'm not sure why Maven would be scared. Maybe just because Mare is. The closer we get to the dungeons, the further we go down the steps, the harder Mare bites her lip, the harder Maven grips her shoulder, and the wider their eyes get.

The blonde one- Farley or something- is leaning against Mare's friend from the village. She sneers at us, confident despite her position. She even spits, right at Evangeline's feet, a mix of crimson blood and saliva. Evangeline's lip curls in disgust.

"Take her tongue for that," she snarls, rushing the cell. Thankfully, she stops short. Farley just stares, essentially entertained, and still very confident.

"A little violent for a princess," she quips. Evangeline opens her mouth, but I reach over and pull her back. I glance once to Mare, then slowly raise a hand to point at her friend from the village.

"You."

A muscle twitches in his cheek. I turn to Mare, who is paler than usual, and not because of her makeup. "Mare, explain this," I say forcefully. Her mouth opens, her gaze flicking back and forth from me to Kilorn. Maven is paler, too. Neither of them say anything, not able to or not wanting to. "He's your friend," I snap. " _Explain this."_

Evangeline gasps, spinning to face her. I almost feel bad for Mare, but I can't, not if this is all her fault. "You brought him here!" she screeches, jumping closer to her. "You did this!?"

Mare takes a deep breath, Maven pulling her backwards more. I'm so sure that they're going to run away that I nearly jump when Mare speaks. "I did n-nothing," she stutters, voice trembling as everyone looks at her. "I mean, I did get him a job here. He was at the lumberyards and it was hard work, deadly work-" She takes another huge breath and her words start to move faster, powered by fear. "He's- he was my friend, back in the village. I just wanted to make sure he was okay. I got him the job as a servant, just like-" Her gaze flickers to me, but she doesn't reveal anything about me helping her, that night in the Stilts. She moves her gaze back to the ground and finishes, "I thought I was helping him."

Maven's hand lifts off her shoulder. He steps towards the bars, eyeing the servants curiously. He then gestures to their outfits. "They seem to be only servants," he says blandly. _Oh, yes, of course._

"I'd say the same, except we found them trying to escape through a drainpipe," I snipe back at him. "Took us a while to drag them out."

"Is this all of them?" Father says, looking through the bars with a frown.

I shake my head in response. "There were more ahead, but they got to the river. How many, I don't know."

Next to me, Evangeline raises her eyebrows. "Well, let's find out. Call for the queen. And in the meantime..." She turns and faces my father. He grins and nods. I glance behind me again. Mare looks from Evangeline to my father, disgust in her gaze. Maven is still looking at the servants. I'm not able to read the emotion in his eyes. When Mare's eyes shift to Kilorn, she softens slightly. It's very obvious they have a close bond, one Maven or I probably couldn't achieve with Mare. I feel pretty bad for them, but I know it's necessary.

"Cal, I leave the honor to you," Father says, placing a hand on my shoulder. Mare's eyes shift to me, her eyes wide and pleading. _Please don't,_ I can almost hear her say. _Don't do it, Cal._ But I have to. I glance at her, trying to apologize without words.

I think she understands my apology. I don't think she accepts it.

I turn to one of the Sentinels- one of House Gliacon. "Sentinel Gliacon, I find myself in need of some ice."

Evangeline giggles in response. "Good choice," she says.

Behind me, Maven has returned to Mare's side. "You don't need to see this," he breathes. She shrugs him off, staring at Kilorn. _She doesn't want to leave him._ I don't even know why I'm a little bit jealous of that, when she's probably going to hate me after this. Unless she knows how sorry I am, which I doubt she cares about, considering the situation.

"Let her stay," crows Evangeline. "This will teach her to treat Reds as friends." She waves open the bars of the cell as she turns back to it. She points to Farley. "Start with her. She needs to be broken." The Sentinel nods, pulling Farley out of the cell. Both Walsh and Kilorn hurry to the bars, eyes wide and fearful. The other member, who stands at the back with a bleeding and broken leg, is wide-eyed. The Sentinel forces Farley to her knees.

"Sir?"

I move to Farley's side, breathing heavily. I hesitate, then say, "How many more of you are there?" Farley looks up, gritting her teeth and locking her jaw in place. She's determined. I sigh. "Start with the arm."

The Sentinel wrenches out Farley's arm. Farley yelps but doesn't say a thing. Kilorn curls his lip in disgust, snarling, "And you call us the savages."

Sentinel Gliacon pulls away Farley's sleeve, setting hands to her skin. Farley screams, her cry echoing around the dungeon. I bite my lip, glancing away from her and the Gliacon girl. I kneel down in front of her. "Where are the others?" I inquire. Farley takes in a deep breath, going quiet as the Sentinel lifts her hands slightly. I lean in further, waiting for the answers.

Suddenly, she snaps forward, headbutting me with all her might. "We are everywhere," she shouts, laughing, but her laughter is cut off by a scream as the Sentinel resumes freezing her blood. I pull back, frowning as I put a hand to my nose, which is bloody and broken. It hurts, but I've been through worse, I guess. Farley's blood is starting to form icicles, points starting to stick out of her skin. I glance away.

Behind me, I hear Mare murmuring in horror. "Blood," she whispers, disgusted and terrified. "She's freezing her blood."

It continues on like that for a while, the Sentinel moving up and down her arm, the red points growing larger and larger. Farley doesn't speak a word, breath whistling in and out. Finally, I jump to my feet. "Enough."

A Skonos skin healer drops down next to Farley, starting her work. Farley chuckles darkly as everything slowly recedes, becoming warm again. "All to do it again, eh?"

I exchange glances with Father, who nods slowly. I sigh. "Indeed," I say, turning back to the shiver. However, we're interrupted before we can even continue.

"WHERE IS SHE?" a voice shouts, echoing down into the dungeons. I recognize it immediately- Ptolemus, Evangeline's brother. I wasn't sure if he had made it. I'm not sure if it's good or bad that he did.

Evangeline whirls around, hurrying to the bottom of the stairs. "I'm here!" she shouts. Footsteps echo down the stairs, and Ptolemus enters the room, quickly embracing his sister. Farley curses under her breath on the floor. After he lets go of Evangeline, Ptolemus starts toward the cell, his hands flexing and his eyes horribly furious. The bars quiver, loud screeches sounding out as they scrape the concrete. Oh. Of course.

"Ptolemus, not yet-" I growl, latching onto his arm in an attempt to stop him, but he shoves me off. I stumble, trying to regain my balance, while Evangeline runs forward, pulling at his hand.

"No, we need them to talk!" she shouts. Ptolemus shrugs her off, though more gently than he did me, striding forward with anger and power. As the Sentinels watch silently and the bars open to him, Walsh and Kilorn scatter quickly to the walls, Farley watching in horror.

"You will not threaten my sister again!" shouts Ptolemus, directing a bar straight through the taller one's chest. Said taller one chokes and gasps, blood soaking his shirt almost immediately- dying. And Ptolemus smiles at that.

He turns to Kilorn. I take a long, deep breath.

Suddenly, Ptolemus stumbles forward, just a bit. My eyes widen as I see Mare has literally _thrown_ herself onto him, slamming one hand to his throat, sparks jumping to her fingertips. Ptolemus seizes, his uniform vibrating and smoking, essentially cooking him. Then he drops, Mare freeing herself and stepping back in somewhat satifaction. "Ptolemus!" cries Evangeline, scrambling to his side. One of Mare's leftover shocks jumps to her fingers. She spins to Mare, angry fire in her eyes. "How _dare_ you-!" she snarls out.

Mare hardly blinks, looking disinterested. _Is that what I look like?_ "He'll be fine," she says dismissively. "Like you said, we need them to talk. They can't do that if they're dead." She states it so easily, so simply.

She looks around the room. Everyone is wide-eyed and afraid, but when she looks at me, I can't bear to look at her at all. _What are you afraid of?_ a part of me asks. Another part of me knows what I am afraid of; what will she look at me with? Anger? Fear? _Hate?_ I glance to Maven, who doesn't look afraid at all, just sad. Not for Mare, for the dead tall boy. Speaking of Maven, he turns to face Father.

"Mother can attend to the prisoners later," he says. "But the people upstairs will want to see their king and know he is safe. So many have died. You should comfort them, Father. And you as well, Cal."

A hand touches my shoulder. I know, without looking, that it's Mare's. "He's right Cal," she breathes. "This can wait."

In sharp contrast, Evangeline bares her teeth as she sits on the floor. She growls, "The court will want answers, not embraces! This must be done now! Your Majesty, rip the truth from them-"

Father shakes his head. "They will keep," he says. "And tomorrow, the truth will be known." Mare's grip tightens on my shoulder, and I sigh, relaxing back into her touch. As I do so, the Sentinels drag Farley back into the cell. She stares at Mare as she's being dragged. Evangeline half drags her brother out, but before she exits as the bars knit behind her, she stops my me.

"You are weak, my prince," she hisses.

* * *

I stare at the floor.

Someone approaches, standing next to me. I hardly notice until they speak. "How many dead?" It's Mare. She sounds incredibly worried.

I glance once up at her. "Ten so far," I mutter. "Three in the shooting, eight in the explosion. Fifteen more wounded." I take a deep breath. "But they'll all heal," I mutter. I jerk my thumb back to the injured and the healers. Mare turns, staring out at them. Then she moves her gaze to the dead, and her hand slaps over her mouth. _She must have seen the children._

Maven approaches her, taking her hands and leading her off. I don't have time to be jealous. I wipe, in vain, at the red blood on my hands that's dripping onto the floor.

"The time for tears is over," thunders my father. "Now we honor the dead, heal the wounded, and _avenge our fallen_. I am the king. I do not forget. I do not forgive. I have been lenient in the past, allowing our Red brothers a good life of prosperity, of dignity. But they spit upon us, they reject our mercy, and they have brought upon themselves the worst kind of doom."

My gaze moves to him as he snarls, curling his lip in disgust as he throws down the silver spear with the red rag, clanging across the floor with a sound like a bell. I stare down at it as it lands in the middle of the floor.

"These fools, these terrorists, these _murderers_ , will be brought to justice. And they will die. I swear on my crown, on my throne, and on my sons, _they will die_."

 **A/N: Hurray, new chapter! Please R/R~**


	11. Maven

**AN; Hey guys! I have a sort of important announcement at the end of this chapter- it's really only about a new RQ fanfiction, if you're interested, but if not then feel free to skip it. (And please review!)**

I grumble under my breath angrily, slamming my foot into my bureau. How could Father? I wanted to go to the front- I really did, no matter who I had to leave behind for it. I'd trained for ages, truly _forever,_ and now I couldn't go?

"Bad dreams, brother?" I tense as Maven calls out, but I take a deep breath anyway, and step out into the hallway to face him. My fists clench, and I take a deep breath. My eyes skim the area, and I notice Mare standing behind him. Her arms are folded over her chest, fingers digging in hard like she wants to wrap them around my throat. I try to ignore that and the way it makes my heart squeeze, but I'm forced to look back at her when she talks.

"Will you be leaving with your legion?" she says, in a civil, cool voice. Her eyes are hard, but it's obvious she knows the answer.

I take a deep breath, filling my thoughts with my anger towards Father to push her out. "The Shadow Legion isn't going anywhere. Father will not allow it. Not now. It's too dangerous, and I'm too _valuable."_ I spit the word out angrily.

Maven places a hand on my shoulder, trying to calm me down. "You know he's right," he says in a placating tone. "You are the heir. He can't afford to lose you, too." I know he's right- Maven's always right. But I don't care.

"I'm a soldier," I spit at him, shrugging out of his grip. "I can't just sit by and let others fight for me. I won't do it."

Mare stares at me from behind my brother. She looks almost _sick_ with me, frowning deeply at my words. She doesn't speak up, and I don't know if I'm upset or relieved by this. Her gaze flickers to Maven; he seems to be speaking for her, at this point. Speaking of Maven, he sighs heavily, sounding almost annoyed. At least _he's_ not disgusted by me, I think thankfully to myself.

"Find another cause. Build another cycle, double your training, drill your men, _prepare_ yourself for when the danger passes. Cal, you can do a thousand other things, and none of them involve you being killed in some kind of ambush!" he exclaims, glaring up at me. Then his glare drops, and he smirks up towards me. "You never change, Cal," he says. "You just can't sit still."

I bite my tongue, at first wanting to snap back at him, but I stop myself when I realize he's just trying to lighten the mood. I smile weakly back at him. "Never." It's true- I never was one for doing nothing, sitting around. _Mare is like that, too,_ I think, glancing to her behind my brother. Our eyes meet for just a second. Her head turns almost immediately.

A sneer curls her features, an expression I can't quite ever recall her wearing before. "Nice armor," she snipes, without looking at me. "It will go well with your collection."

 _It will go well with your collection._ I almost flinch- since when was she so harsh? But I collect myself just in time, clenching my jaw and narrowing my eyes at her. She hardly notices- or cares- as she shifts, glancing insipidly at me. I tap on the armor, and her eyes widen just a bit at the sound. "This was a gift from Ptolemus," I say flatly. "I seem to share a common cause with my betrothed's brother." I don't know what I was expecting with the words "my betrothed," but I don't achieve anything. Her eyebrows raise. Something shades her gaze, but it's minimal and I don't try to read into it further.

Maven gazes at the armor, looking wary. "What do you mean?"

I raise an eyebrow at him. "Ptolemus commands the officers in the capital. Together with me and my legion, we might be able to do something of use, even within the city."

Mare's eyes widen as she turns to me, brown eyes sparkling with an emotion that I can place but don't wish to. "And what is that, exactly?" she says, her voice quickly timid.

"I'm a good hunter," I say. "He's a good killer." I take a step back. Neither of them try to chase after me. Part of me is glad, and part of me hates the reason why they aren't doing so. "Between the two of us, we'll root out the Scarlet Guard. We'll end this rebellion once and for all."

Maven stands by Mare's shoulder, his hand carefully wrapped around her arm, a comforting gesture. Why she would care for the Scarlet Guard after what they've done.. I don't know. Before I can dwell on it further, I turn and walk fully away from them, trying to push Mare's scared expression out of my head.

* * *

"The queen requests your presence on the viewing deck."

While I speak, I silently wonder how bad it would look if I punched Maven in the face. Probably very bad. That doesn't make me want it any less, though. "Passing the Stilts, Mare."

Maven looks at me, his eyes glittering with smugness, though he's obviously trying to hide it. Mare heaves a breath, turning to face me.

Of course she wouldn't choose me. Not after what I did. She would never choose me. She bites her lip. "Thank you, Cal," she says to me, her voice quiet. It is filled with emotion.

I turn and walk away. Maven isn't watching, but Mare is. I throw a glance over my shoulder, hoping to God she doesn't notice. She's distracted by something Maven is saying, but she's staring after me. Her eyes are filled with guilt. Or that might just be my imagination. But it sends just a little bit of hope through me.

 _Maybe she doesn't hate me after all._

 **A/N: I hate me. School is starting, y'know, the part of the year when I have literally THE LEAST time to write, and what do I do? Get inspired for this story of course. Ughhh.**

 **Anyway, for the new RQ fanfic: I'm thinking of starting an AU where Mare is born into House Titanos and has to go through Queenstrial...there's a lot more to it than that, but that's the basic idea I have so far. It's probably still going to be Maven/Mare/Cal buut I'm not exactly sure yet. Let me know what you guys think of this idea~**


	12. Terrorists, Rebels, and Bloodbases

**A/N: Thanks for all your support with my fanfiction idea! I'm working on the first chapter of it now, and I'm currently proofreading/editing it, so I promise it will be up soon!**

I raise my eyebrows at Elara. "Excuse me?" I say.

"You heard me," the Queen drawls, crossing her arms over her chest. "I said go find the girl and tell her Maven's idea." _The girl._ My fists clench in annoyance, but I sigh anyway.

"Yes," I reply in a bored tone. "I know what the idea is," I add as I turn around. She raises her eyebrows, looking annoyed, but I ignore her. I need to talk to Mare anyway- though she was open when I first met her, I just can't read her right anymore.

 _Where would she be?_ I think as I pass the halls, but then I hear some noise coming from a sitting room to my left. I swing the door open, standing in the doorway. Mare's head snaps up- of course this is where she is. Her expression clouds immediately, darkening into revulsion. It makes my stomach churn. _What in God's name did I do?_

"You're angry with me," I say. It's a statement, not a question, and we both know it.

"I'm not," she mutters. She's lying- at least I can tell that.

"Don't lie," I snarl, even though it's a stupid thing to say, because she's been lying since the moment we've met. "Three days ago you kissed me, and now you can't even look at me," I exclaim, my eyes focusing on her. She glances away.

"I'm betrothed to your brother," she says, stepping backwards. It's such a stupid excuse that I want to laugh. _You are? Where was that, when you kissed me three days ago?_ I want to say, but I bite my tongue.

I wave my hand, trying to seem collected. "That didn't stop you before," I say. She glances down, almost embarrassed. "What's changed?"

Mare doesn't answer. She shifts on her feet, staring at the ground. She looks like she wants to say something, but she doesn't speak up. In my head, I rewind through all the things I've done in the last three days- could it have been when I kissed her? No, it wasn't that..she looked sick once, sure, but was pretty welcoming to me after that. The ball? Dancing with Evangeline wasn't exactly my choice, and I'm sure she understands that. And then- oh. The Reds.

"Is this about the terrorists?" I say.

She grits her teeth so hard it looks painful, finally looking back up at me. "Rebels," she forces out.

"They murdered people, children, _innocents,_ " I say forcefully. Why doesn't she understand that?

"You and I both know that wasn't _their_ fault!" shouts Mare, her glare shooting daggers. I wince- as much as I hate to recall the memory, she is correct. It was _my_ fire that set off the explosion, _my_ fault that all those children died.

But was it entirely me? No, it wasn't- the Colonel, Belicos, and Reynald's deaths were all their fault. They were the one who punctured the gas line in the first place. They were the ones who decided to attack the palace. Without them, there wouldn't have even been that situation in the first place. Mare can't put _all_ that blame on me.

"But they caused it all the same," I growl. "What I ordered the Sentinel to do was for the dead, for justice."

"And what did torture get you?" she says, cocking her head like a pleasantly confused child, but her voice is sharp and furious. "Do you know their names, how many there are? Do you even know what they _want_? Have you even bothered to listen?"

I sigh deeply, clenching and unclenching a fist, before trying to save this conversation. "I know you have your own reasons for- for _sympathizing_ , but their methods cannot be-"

Mare curls her lip in disgust. "Their methods are your own fault." Her hands curl into fists, too- she's clearly fuming. "You make us work, you make us bleed, you make us die for your wars and factories and the little comforts you don't even notice, all because we are _different_. How can you expect us to let that stand?"

Okay, she has a point. I fidget, not able to come up with answer. Mare raises her eyebrows, clearly delighting in rendering me silent.

"The only reason I'm not dead in a trench somewhere is because you pitied me. The only reason you're even listening to me now is because, by some insane miracle, I happen to be another kind of different." She raises her hands slightly, sparks jumping to her fingertips almost lazily, and her eyes narrow.

"You can stop this, Cal," she breathes. "You will be king, and you can stop this war, you can save thousands, _millions_ , from generations of glorified slavery, if you say _enough_."

Again, she's naive. I couldn't do that; not if I tried. It would ruin this whole country. People like Mare sometimes make me rethink my words; different Reds, unique Reds, people worth knowing. But is it worth it, when it goes against every single thing that I've been raised on?

"I thought that once," I mutter. "But it would lead to rebellion on both sides, and I will not be the king that ruins this country. This is my legacy, my father's legacy, and I have a duty to it." The window steams, but I don't care. I glance back to her. "Would you trade a million deaths for what they want?"

Mare is silent for a long moment. When she finally speaks, her voice sounds far away.

"The Guard won't stop," she murmurs. "And while they are certainly to blame, you are as well. There is blood on your hands, Prince." There's a pause before she starts walking off.

"Julian's disappeared, hasn't he?"

Mare turns rather slowly. Her expression is flat for a split second, then it turns into a confused one. "Disappeared?" she says.

"The escape left holes in the memories of many Sentinels, as well as the video logs. My uncle does not use his abilities often, but I know the signs," I say firmly. Mare raises her eyebrows at me, frowning.

"You think he helped them escape?" she questions.

My heart twinges at the thought of my uncle, on the run, helping the Scarlet Guard. "I do," I say, but it sounds strained. "That's why I gave him enough time to slip away."

Mare's eyes widen. "You did what?" she says, sounding like she can't believe it. That hurts- it really does. What, did she think I would just let him die like that? I don't answer myself on that one.

"He's my uncle, I did what I could for him. How heartless do you think I am?" I smirk sadly at her. I already know the answer. To my surprise, her gaze shifts to the ground, like that action upset her somehow. But I know it's pointless to convince myself she cares. "I delayed the arrest as long as I could, but everyone has tracks, and the queen will find him." I sigh, resting a palm against the glass. "And he'll be executed."

"You'd do that to your uncle?" She sounds disgusted. And afraid.

I push the thought away, straightening. Time to actually talk about what I was sent here for. "Maven had an interesting proposition."

Mare raises her eyebrows, her hurt look vanishing. "Oh?"

After that kiss, the mere thought of Maven annoys me. "Mavey's a quick thinker. He got that from his mother."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" She frowns over at me. "What are you trying to say, Cal?"

"You're in the open now," I blurt. "After your speech, the entire country knows your name and face. And so more will wonder who and what you are." Mare shifts on her feet, frown turning into a scowl.

She shrugs, though still scowling. "Maybe you should've thought of that before you made me read that disgusting speech."

I sigh. "I'm a soldier, not a politician. You know I had nothing to do with the Measures," I explain in a placating tone.

"But you'll follow them," she mutters, her gaze lifting to me. "You'll follow them without question."

She's right, of course. I always follow the rules. For all her faults, Mare is usually right about things like that. And I wouldn't lie to her; not now. "All records of you have been removed. Officers, archivists, _no one_ will ever find proof you were born Red." I glance to the floor, almost afraid to see her reaction. "This is what Maven proposed."

Mare gasps aloud, drawing my eyes to her. "What does that mean?" she breathes, voice shaking in fear or excitement, I don't know which.

"Your school record, birth certificate, blood prints, even your ID card have been destroyed." She trembles, but her expression is flat.

"That sounds like the right thing to do." She suddenly bows- surprising me, since when did she bow?- and hurries from the room, hiding her face. I'm not exactly sure what she was feeling just then, but I think she might have been happy.

Huh. What a surprise.


	13. All This

**A/N- Welp. Sorry for my huge, huge absence- I have really NO explanation for this, except for having literally sooo much writer's block, I can't even-**

 **But now it's time to start really ruining Cal. AKA we're reaching the end of Red Queen! Yayy(?)!**

 **Thankfully we're not quite there yet..**

"A suicide pill." My voice is gentle, like I'm speaking to a child. Clearly, considering our last encounter, yelling and being harsh towards her isn't the way to go. Though I probably should have known that in the first place, huh?

"We give them to officers on the lines, and our spies. If they're captured-"

Mare snarls back, "They won't talk." Her voice is bitter, sharp. Ah, yes. She's still angry with me. I step back, standing at an arm's length, and Mare's eyes soften slightly. She steps back further, her gaze shifting. I try not to sigh. I haven't understood her lately, and I don't expect to. But part of me wonders if the Mare I first knew if still there, the Mare from the Stilts, the thief who was easy to read. Probably not.

Mareena is there now; the girl from Silver cities, the rule-follower who keeps her emotions to herself. At least, she's sort of a rule-follower. She pretends to be, if nothing else.

"It's a better death than she would get from us," I add quietly.

"Would she be frozen?" mutters Mare, her gaze dark. "Or maybe burned, for a change of pace?"

"No," I reply with a shake of my head. "She would go to the Bowl of Bones." I lift my gaze to the Bowl of Bones, the oval-shaped arena across the river. Mare follows my gaze, her eyes narrowing as she takes in the spectacle, the rim of spikes atop the arena. Recognition crosses her eyes, and she glances back to me. "She'd be executed in a broadcast, a message to all the rest."

Mare raises an eyebrow, pursing her lips. "I thought you didn't do that anymore," she claims. "I haven't seen one in over a decade." I'm surprised Mare even remembers them at all, but I guess to a Red- a thief, a young girl- that wouldn't be something you're able to forget. I don't forget them either, and I'm used to that sort of thing.

"Exceptions can be made," I reply coolly. "The arena fights haven't stopped the Guard from taking hold, maybe something else will."

"You knew her." Her voice is a whisper, hissing out, masked with sadness. "You sent her to me after we first met." I cross my arms, trying to shove the thought out of my mind. She was a traitor, she worked for the Scarlet Guard- worked against us, my father, my family. She doesn't matter. She shouldn't matter, and Mare should know that, being a Silver now.

I let out a sigh, replying carefully, "I knew she came from your village. I thought that might help you adjust a little."

Mare stares at me for a while, then lets out a little noise that sounds like a scoff, her hands curling into fists, nails digging into her palms. Her eyes look sad as she glances to the ground. "I don't even know why you cared," she mutters quietly. "You didn't even know I was different."

 _I knew you were different. But not different in that way,_ I want to say. But I don't know how to say it, don't know how to express it to her. She was free, she was open. She was trusting, and blunt, and _special_. She was not some Silver, only nice to me because I'm a prince, only lusting after the crown. She was a taste, just a taste, of a friend, a real person. And then I got her that job as a servant, and then she was forced to be a Silver- but she never really _was._ She was still herself, her own person, her own girl with her own emotions- the little lightning girl, like a bolt, crashing through the Silver world.

"You were different to me," I murmur, my voice low.

Mare stares at me for a while. She glances to the palace, and then to the Square. "I wonder what could have been, if all of this.." She pauses, gesturing to the area around us. "..wasn't between us."

 _Me too, Mare,_ I think.

I place a hand onto her arm, her gaze flickering up to me. I hardly notice how warm it's getting- I guess I'm too preoccupied.

"But that can never be, Cal." She stares at me with such intensity, such longing, that I nearly flinch away. With her harshness, her anger recently, I couldn't ever have imagined that she still feels this way. But apparently she does, still, and despite how much I want to stifle it, the flame of hope that surges through me is still there. Maybe she does love me, not Maven- maybe, just maybe.

Part of me hopes she doesn't. We'd just be stringing each other along, forever- we can't get married, forever destined to be with someone else, have children with them, live a life with them. Our feelings couldn't possibly stay around, and even if they did, we could never act on them. Once would make us want more, but we could never do it again, constant longing and hope that could just never come through.

"Mare," I whisper, and I'm almost ashamed by how quiet I sound. I dip my head to her.

She turns away, carefully taking a few steps to leave the balcony. How I wish she could stay.

"I wish things were different." She glances over her shoulder, eyes wide. _Does she wish that, too?_ I glance away from her again. I wonder what the risks would be, being with her for real- the news would spread so fast, whispers all over the kingdom, the prince in love with his brother's betrothed. Elara certainly wouldn't allow it, and I doubt Father would either, despite his history with Mother- Mare is a Red, and Father would not let me be with a Red.

Mother.

Julian said Mare was like her. Righteous, brave. I turn back to her, and she stares back at me. It feels like before, like usual- quiet exchanges of glances, soft words spoken, because we couldn't do anything more.

"Julian says you're like her," I say thoughtfully. "Like she... used to be."

Mare looks at me, her eyes sad. I'm surprised she cares so much about Coriane, my mother, enough to make her sad. She sees the best in people, whether dead or alive, I suppose.

I don't wish Mare was a Silver- I like her just the way she is. But sometimes, I just feel like that would have made it so much easier.


	14. Choices

I wake to an explosion. What a great way to wake up.

I throw myself out of bed, the Sentinels bursting into my room almost immediately. Their eyes lock on me, and I hiss, "To the barracks!" They nod almost immediately, and we set off, hurrying towards the barracks. We skid to a stop by the Square, soldiers pouring out and surrounding us. I cast a glance back to the flame and smoke of the bridge.

"Guns on the gates!" I shout. "Put nymphs on the other side, we don't want the fire spreading!" I look quickly back to the other side of the Square, and for a moment I think I see silhouettes, but I push the thought away. The spotlights blaze up, pointing down to the bridge or all around the square. I notice one person stepping into the middle of one of the beams, but I ignore it. Probably just some lingering soldier.

"Cal!" a voice screams, shouting over the noise of the legion. _Wait- no,_ I realize, _that isn't just any person- it's Mare._ My head snaps over towards her direction, and she stands alone, one hand over her eyes to block the spotlight, but she still meets my eyes through the mess. She is not afraid- does she know what's going on? I shove my way through the soldiers, and I see her legs tremble. Or maybe she is afraid.

"Go back inside, now!" I tell her, standing over her, but she looks back up at me evenly. "Mare, it's not safe-!" I try to move back, so I can watch her go safely, but one of her hands snatches onto the collar of my shirt.

"What if that was the cost?" she says, and my heart just about stops.

She glances back at the smoking Bridge, eyes disdainful. "Nothing but a few tons of concrete," she says dismissively, but when she meets my gaze, her eyes are alight with fire. "What if I told you that right here, right now, you could fix everything." She leans closer. "You could save _us_."

You could save us. Us _. What does that mean?_ I think, but I think I know what it does. But she's still staying out here, standing firm, standing strong. _She's going to get herself killed!_ "Don't," I protest, one of my hands clasping hers. I'm afraid, I really am, _for_ her.

"You said you believed in us once, in freedom. In equality. _You_ can make that world real, with one word. There won't _be_ a war. No one will die." My breath catches in my throat. Mare's eyes are fiery but desperate. "You hold the power now. This army is yours, this whole place is yours to take and- and to free!" she shouts, her grip tightening on me. "March into the palace, make your father kneel, and do what you know is right. _Please_ , Cal!"

Could I do that? I wonder. The automatic answer I come to is no- but is that true? Julian always supported Reds. Mare is a Red, too, and she is someone I had fallen in love with.

But Father raised me to be scornful towards Reds. Not scornful- it's just the balance. If I upset that, what would happen? Rebellion, revolution? Would I be a good king if I did that? Maybe to Reds, but what about to Silvers?

And Mare, asking this of me- was _this_ what she had been implying before? _If all of this wasn't between us._ Maybe this was it, her underlying message. And I hadn't realized it until now.

She leans closer and presses a kiss to my lips. I hardly register it. She is shaking, I can feel that. She pulls back, just a little, her voice desperate as she continues her speech.

"Choose me," she breathes. "Choose a new world. _Make_ a better world. The soldiers will obey you. Your _father_ will obey you." The spotlight flickers on and off with her heartbeat, which I can feel, pounding hard as she's pressed against me. She is tense, waiting for me to say something, but I can't. I'm just not able. "It was my blood in the cells," she insists. "I helped the Guard escape. And soon everyone will know- and they will kill me. Don't let them. _Save me_."

If my heart had stopped before, it was frozen in place now.

 _I helped the Guard escape._

 _I helped the Guard._

How did I not _know_? How did I not _see_? It was so obvious, now that I look back at it. My grip on her wrists tightens as I come to an even worse conclusion:

 _She used me._

"It was always you."

She stares evenly back at me. "Greet the new dawn, Cal. With me," she replies firmly. Her gaze flicks once to her left. "With _us_ ," she adds, quietly. I glance behind her and- ah, yes. Maven. He stares at me, and I stare at him. He is smug-looking, as if to say, _She's mine now._ And that pushes me over the edge- right over the damn line.

She used me.

So did Maven, didn't he? If they were working together, both with the Guard, then he was using me too. They both were. That hurts- that really hurts. "It was always you," I repeat, and this time I don't care about how broken my voice sounds. "The escape, the shooting, the power outages." She controls electricity- how did I not notice? "It all started with you."

Her mouth opens, and she tries to struggle back. I don't let go. _Remind you of something?_ a voice in my head says. I shove the thought away. "How many people have you killed with your dawn?" I shout. "How many children, how many innocents? How many people have you betrayed?" People like me, people who trusted her. How many of those are there?

Her legs tremble and then her knees buckle, but my hand still grasps her wrists. Maven cries out, "Let her go!" He hurries forward, but Mare separates us herself. Her eyes are sorrowful and yet they are furious. Electricity shoots between us, and I jerk back, the sparks throwing her back from me. Maven halts, eyes wide. He turns to the Guard, eyes skimming over them before he lets out another cry. "Run! Run!" he shrieks, gesturing wildly from the blonde one- Farley?- to the left, then down, then to the drains. I jump to my feet before Mare does, my eyes following where Maven is pointing.

"The drains!" I shouted, the shout directed to my soldiers but my eyes only on Mare. "They're in the drains!"

One of the shadows scurries into the drains, Mare's eyes following only that one. Soldiers pour into the drains after it, ripping up pipes or grating to jump in. Mare's eyes are hollow as she stares at them. Part of me wants to relish in her pain, it longs to, but I can't. No matter what she's done, she is still Mare- and it still hurts for me to see her in pain, no matter how much I don't want to admit it now that she's... done what she's done.

My body shakes as I stand over her. Her lip curls as she stares up at me. She is angry, she is furious.

"How many?" she screams, her voice angry and hateful. It hurts, despite how much I want it not to. "How many starved? How many murdered? How many children taken away to die?" She inhales deeply. A hateful glare sharpens her gaze. "How many, _my prince?_ "

She trembles on her feet, eyes wild. She is angry, and I am sad. I'm sad because she's right. She's right, even though I don't want her to be. I'm right, too, because what she's done is wrong, but her words remind me of why I believed in a world where Silvers and Reds are equal in the first place.

"My brother, Kilorn's father, Tristan, Walsh-!"

I don't know half of them, but I can tell they mean everything to her, the way her voice twists in pain as she cries out. I don't answer, my gaze drifting to Arven, standing behind her. I glance back at her once.

"I wish things were different."

I really do. I wish she hadn't used me, I wish she hadn't been in the Scarlet Guard. I wish she hadn't been forced to be a Silver, a prisoner in silk, I wish she hadn't been betrothed to Maven. But it happened. And now I have to deal with it.

The soldiers shackle her, and she looks like she wants to cry. I don't know if it's because of what I said, or because of what the guards are doing.

"Brother!" Maven snarls, his voice hard and sharp. "They'll kill her! They'll kill _me_!" I ignore him. I turn to one of the captains.

"Make sure they don't escape," I say.

The captain nods. "Yes, sir."

Mare slumps on the ground. They shove Maven forward, and he falls next to her, his head landing with a loud thump. I try not to grimace at the way he winces. Mare lets out a little horrible whine, as if the motion brings back bad memories. I breathe heavily.

"Take them inside, to the king," I say firmly. "He will judge them both."

Maven looks up at me, his eyes desperate. In stark contrast, Mare stares into the distance, hopelessness crossing her gaze. She knows to give up now. She has no hope. My heart twists at the both of their fates, now- there's no hope for either of them, although Elara may be able to save Maven, there's no hope for Mare. I push the thought away. I can't care about them now. They are traitors, working for the Scarlet Guard, and I can't have mercy for either of them.

Mare finally looks up at me. The sun is rising on a dawn, a dawn of a day that could be the last for them. Her eyes focus on the sun, and then they squeeze shut- this certainly isn't the dawn she wanted to see.

 **A/N-**

 **Please R/R!**

 **I really don't mean to beg, but please review! It means a lot to me, and I'm a lot more motivated to get chapters up when you review..**

 **But yeah-**


	15. (Un)Fortunately

**A/N: Oh. Wow. Long time no see. Heehee.**

 **So yes, it's been ages since I've updated. I'll be honest, this is literally my fault. I mean... I read Kane Chronicles and Percy Jackson and started playing Smite... and I'm super into that now.. and I just never had the inspiration to start this. I mean there have been like 100 times where I've gotten up to go get my book, stood there, stared blankly at the wall, and then sat back down like** ** _nope._**

 ** _but here it is~~~_**

* * *

"Son?" my father says. My head turns from Mare and Maven, shackled and close together in front of us, sickening traitors. Or at least, that's what I tell myself as my heart twists. My brother and Mare. I should've expected Mare- it was so obvious, looking back at it. But not Maven. I could have never seen Maven as a traitor, as a supporter of Reds. I had always seen him as not particularly supportive of either side... but the two were closer than normal, now that I look back at it, whispering and glancing tentatively away at things that I couldn't see or understand.

Now I do.

My father's fingers quiver and shake. I don't know why. "I want to hear this from you," he says.

I don't want to say it. I don't want to say it because saying it makes it real. I'd rather live in blissful ignorance, I admit to myself in that moment. I'd rather live in a day when Mare was just an entertaining, perfect girl who loved me and Maven was just my innocent younger brother. But I have to say it, don't I? Generals are strong, and I have to be strong, too. But the words seem to strike at me as soon as they leave my mouth. "They've been part of this for a long time." They squeeze my heart, and I can see Mare and Maven watching me from their place, eyes blank. "Since.. she came here."

"Both?" His gaze turns to Maven, a frown tugging at his lips. He looks like he wants to look away, but Maven doesn't. He just stares, hardened and cold. _Where is the warm younger brother I once knew?_ "You knew about this, my boy?"

He just nods. "I helped plan it." His voice is flat, stating a fact. I shiver.

My father's mouth falls open, and hearing Maven say it himself digs in deep. "A-And the shooting?" he asks uncertainly, his eyes fixated only on Maven.

My brother glances at Mare, just once, but his gaze flits away so fast I almost think I imagined it. That would be nice, wouldn't it? If this all just didn't happen. But Maven straightens himself as he always did for public meals or pageants and says, "I chose the targets." I want to scream. The Lerolans. Reynald Iral. The Colonel. Even Evangeline's brother- Maven _chose_ them, Maven _let them die_.

Maven looks to Elara. They hold each other's gazes, then Maven looks back to father.

His voice is almost mocking, though I think it would be no matter what he said, the lack of the brother I knew stinging deep. "You told me to find a cause, Father," he says, almost a whisper. "And I did. Are you proud of me?"

He doesn't answer Maven; no, instead, he rounds on Mare, his lip curled in disgust. Her eyes light up in surprise, the only emotion I've seen in those brown depths recently. "You did this!" Father shouts, his voice twisting in anger and sadness, and I grit my teeth, the sound horrible. "You poisoned him, you poisoned my boy!" Tears well up in his eyes, and I'm surprised that I'm not crying, either. Maven stares at him, still blank-faced, and for just a moment, a pitiful, little second, I wonder if it's true. She used me, after all. "You've taken my son from me!"

Mare grits her teeth, too, and her eyes flash like I remember. "You have done that yourself. Maven has his own heart, and he believes in a different world as much as I do. If anything, your son changed me."

"I don't believe you," Father says shakily. "You have tricked him somehow."

 _Has she?_

"She does not lie," a chilling, new voice says, and I want to cry. Elara. Of course, if anyone was to know, it would be her, the whisper. Now there is no hope of my brother returning, and no hope of Mare being somehow manipulated herself, either.

"Our son has always... thirsted for change," the queen says carefully. But _she_ sounds afraid, too. Why? "He is just a boy, Tiberias," she urges.

Maven sucks in a breath, and he looks afraid too. Next to him, Mare is staring at the ground. Father looks at his feet. Maven lifts his head, and his eyes turn to me. I want to look away, but I don't. Our eyes meet, and I think of the Maven I once knew. He stares at me for a moment, and I just can't understand what he's thinking about.

I almost jump when a hand is placed on my shoulder. I look up into my father's face, and my heart twists as tears stream down his face. He shakes his head.

"A boy or not, Maven has killed," he says hoarsely. "Together with this- this snake"- he points a finger at Mare, and despite me knowing it's true, I still have an urge to jump to her defense -"he has committed grave crimes against his own. Against _me_ , and against you. Against our throne."

"Father," I blurt, standing in front of him, blocking his view of the two others. "He is your son. There must be another way," I say, and I try not to shout.

He straightens, wiping away the tears. "When you wear my crown," he tells me, "you will understand."

 _You can stop this, Cal,_ I remember Mare saying. _You will be king, and you can stop this war..._

 _I will not be the king who ruins this country,_ I remember telling her.

"Fortunately, that will never happen."

My eyes widen and Father sputters, "What?" He tries to turn to Elara, but freezes halfway. A twitch at the corner of her lip- Elara's almost smiling. "Elara, what are you doing?" he hisses.

His eyes widen further and I know that she is in his head, speaking deadly words. "No!" he shouts, before Elara twitches her hand and he's forced to his knees.

 _Not my father. Not my father too._ I try to lunge forward, flame lighting up and dancing around my fists, but Elara raises the opposite hand and stops me in my tracks.

"Elara. Arven-!"

Arven doesn't move. He stares blankly, his eyes locked on us but not stopping the queen's ability. Of course, it was always the queen. Of course it was. I glance back once to Mare and Maven. Mare's expression seems to flicker, like she feels joy but is hesitant to show it. I know this isn't a happy occasion, though. My eyes land on the queen and I strain, trying to squirm and move.

"Julian warned me," I finally snarl. "I thought he was lying about you, about my mother, about what you did to her." I want to break free- right now. I want her to die, I want her to die for what she did to my mother, I want her to die for what she's going to do to my father.

Father howls on the floor, tears back in his eyes, and I struggle further against the queen's hold. "Coriane," he moans, a terrible, sad sound, and I want to scream. "Julian knew. Sara knew. You punished her for the truth..." Elara narrows her eyes at him, clenching her fists as sweat begins to bead on her forehead. Maybe, just maybe, if we can hold out long enough for her to let go...

"Elara, you have to get Maven out of here. Don't worry about me," Mare says, her eyes wide, "just keep him safe."

The queen just about laughs. "Oh, don't you fret, little lightning girl," she sneers, her lip curling as her eyes land on Mare. "I don't think about you at all. Though your loyalty to my son is quite inspiring. Isn't it, Maven?"

My heart dropped another thirty feet. _No, no no,_ I panic, _no, no, NO._

Maven's hands snap out of the shackles, the iron melting, splashing off his wrists and onto the floor. He steps away from Mare, and for just a moment, I expect her to follow, I expect him to free her, too. But I think it's worse that he doesn't. The shackles are still on her wrists, and for just a moment, her eyes flick to mine, her eyes wide and shocked with realization of a harsh truth. _At least he betrayed both of us._

"Maven?" Her tone of voice is even worse, a panicked, confused sort of tone, clinging onto that naive hope that might still be there. "Maven," she says, "help me up."

He rolls his shoulders, bones cracking as his eyes hone in on her, his hands placing themselves on his hips. His eyes are cold, flat, even more emotionless than before. He does not smile, and his voice is just as flat when he speaks.

"No," he says quietly, "I don't think so."

Her voice cracks on the way out as she whispers, "What?"

She stares at him pleadingly, and he stares back, his eyes flat and almost bored. They seem to have a silent conversation, Mare leaning forward just a little, Maven pulling back just a bit, his eyes showing one flash of emotion before he blinks and looks away, banishing any second thoughts about whatever he's going to do.

She may have betrayed me, but I still almost can't bear to see her so sad, so broken.

"CAPTAIN TYROS!" I scream, and Elara, Mare and Maven all look to me. "CAPTAIN TYROS! EVANGELINE! PTOLEMUS, SOMEONE, HELP!"

Elara almost smiles, but next to her, Maven grimaces slightly. His head turns to Elara, a frown painting his now-cold features. "Do we have to listen to this?" he complains, and it stings to be referred to as _this_.

"No, I suppose we don't," Elara mumbles, sighing as she tips her head to the side. She forces my body to turn and shift, to face my father.

"What are you doing?" I cry, feeling a rush of panic as I turned to the whisper.

My father's face darkens, and I want to scream again and again. "Isn't it obvious?" And it is, but I don't want to acknowledge what I think is going to happen. I don't want it to happen.

"Maven, please," Mare says, her voice cracking again. My brother stares at me, but I see his hand twitch, fingers itching like he wants to move, at least a little. For a moment, it's just silent. And then Mare speaks again, her voice twisting with pain. "You used me," she whispers.

His head turns, eyes hardening into steel. "Catching on, are you?" he sneers at her, and she shrinks back further like she wants to disappear into herself, like she wants to be anywhere but here. I don't blame her.

"You chose the targets," she says in a hoarse voice. "The colonel, Reynald, Belicos, even Ptolemus- they weren't the Guard's enemies, they were yours." One hand pushes to her forehead, rubbing slow circles to herself like that could bring her any comfort now. "And this- this was just another plot," she exclaims, her tone horrified. "You pushed me into this, even though it was impossible, even though you knew Cal would never betray his father!" she cries, and for a moment, I'm shocked- that was Maven's idea? Then I push that away. Of course it was Maven. "You made all of us believe it," she whispers weakly.

Maven raises an eyebrow. He looks almost entertained by her, not at least a little guilty, or _something._ "It's not my fault you were stupid enough to play along," he says coldly. "Now, the Guard is finished."

"They were your friends. They _trusted_ you."

"They were a threat to my kingdom, and they were stupid," Maven replies flatly. A cold smile curls his features as he leans over her. " _Were_ ," he adds, and Elara laughs with him.

"It was too easy to slip you into their midst. One sentimental servant was all it took," she says dismissively. "How such fools became a danger, I'll never know." The queen laughs a little to herself again. Mare winces at just her voice.

"You made me believe," she whimpers, almost choking on the words. "I thought you wanted to help us." For a second, his features soften, become almost regretful, but then he seals himself back up again and looks away.

Elara curls her lip, eyes narrowing at Mare. "Foolish girl," she snaps harshly. "Your idiocy was already our ruin. Using your own guard in the escape, causing all the outrages- do you really think I was so stupid as to miss your tracks?" _Wait, what?_ I think. _Lucas?_

Mare shakes her head, brown hair swaying. "You let me do it. You knew about it all.."

"Of course I knew," she replies coolly. "How do you think you came so far? _I_ had to cover your tracks, _I_ had to protect you from anyone with enough sense to see the signs. You do not know the lengths I went to keep you from harm..." She smirks, almost flushing from enjoyment. "But you are Red," she finishes with a sigh, "and like all others, you were doomed to fall."

Mare trembles, her body shivering as she glances sorrowfully to my brother.

"You told him what to say," she says. "You know who I am in here, and you knew"-is it my imagination, or does she glance over to me?-"you knew exactly how to win me over."

Maven stares, and she turns to him, her tone almost accusing as she says, "Was anything true?"

When my brother shakes his head, I wonder if he is lying yet again.

"Even Thomas?" she asks, and for a moment, I'm confused- but then I remember, didn't Maven have a friend named Thomas? He must have told Mare about him. Though I guess Thomas was more important to Maven then I had thought before, I note as Maven finally winces, grimacing for just a moment before shrugging away the name and readjusting that "mask" of his.

"Another dead boy," he says. "He makes no difference."

I almost don't hear it, but Mare mutters in anguish, "He makes all the difference," and my heart squeezes. I curse myself for feeling sorry for her, because I'm going through that too, and I didn't betray her. But Mare was close to who I thought was my brother- when really, whoever this is is my brother, isn't he? I grimace to myself.

"I think it's time to say your goodbyes, Maven," put in Elara, her voice cold. Mare struck too close.

Maven glances once to me. "I have none," he says quietly, before his eyes turn to my father, but he does not really look _at_ him- he looks at the sword, or the crown, but not at my dad. Our dad. "You never looked at me. You never saw me. Not when you had _him_ ," he snaps to my father, his voice cold, and he jerks his head toward me. I want to scream, to tell him to stop, but I just can't form the words.

"You know that's not true, Maven," my father attempts to reason. "You are my son. Nothing will change that. Not even her." His eyes flick to the queen, who still stands firm. "Not even what she's about to do."

"Dearest, I'm not doing anything," Elara chirps, almost laughs, as she moves closer to us. "But your beloved boy"-a hand slaps my face, and I grimace, wanting to hurt her, to make her stop what she's going to do, but I can't-"the perfect heir"-she slaps me, right across my face again, harder this time-"Coriane's son." She smacks me once again, and the metallic taste of blood floods my mouth as blood dribbles down my lip. I want to spit it at her, for she has no right to speak of my mom like that, but I know it will just make things worse for me, so all I can do is watch. "I cannot speak for him," she finishes.

Maven stares at the blood. I think he frowns. He probably didn't.

"We had a son too, Tibe. No matter how you felt about me, you were supposed to love him."

"I _did_!" my father shouts. "I do," he finishes weakly.

Maybe I don't understand Maven.

Maybe because Father always loved me. But he loved Maven too, in his own way, I know that. I loved Maven. Maven had his mother, too, and he had both parents. I didn't. Mare loved him, even. But I guess that wasn't enough for Maven, it wasn't enough until everyone _acknowledged_ and _loved_ him, it wasn't enough until he was the crown prince, and not me.

My fingers and hand and arm move of Elara's will, inching closer to the sword that decorates the sheath on my father's waist. I struggle and thrash, or at least I try, but Elara keeps me still, forcing my hand to grasp the sword and yank it away from the king. My skin heats the blade, melts little tiny bits of the steel, the molten liquid dripping down and hitting my leg. Liquid hits my face, too, but it takes me a moment to realize that's not steel, and it's tears instead.

"It's not you," Father says, his eyes focusing on me. "I know it's not you, son. This is not your fault." Tears blur my vision, pouring down like heavy rain. The smallest of wretched noises escapes my mouth, and my father's expression twists further, but I don't think anyone else heard me. Elara forces my arms up, raising them. The steel continues to melt and then fall, falling like the tears from my eyes.

"Please," I beg. "Please."

My arms pull back and I try to squeeze my eyes shut but she doesn't let me. I try to stop her before she does it, one last ditch attempt. It doesn't work. All I can do is watch as my arms swing the sword, slashing through air and the thick tension and my father.

His corpse lands with a muffled sort of noise and I think his head rolls somewhere. I don't see. I just fall to my knees. I try to sob, but only tears keep coming, and I just can't bring myself to scream.

Elara screams for me, and when the last piece of her plan comes falling into place through the haze in my head, I wish I was the one whose head had been cut off.


	16. I Guess He's Not Afraid of the Dark

**ALMOST DONE THE MAIN PLOT OH JEEZ **FANS SELF RAPIDLY* (Also, thanks so so so so so much for the kind reviews ;o; This isn't the execution yet, but that's the next chapter, I promise you! o w o )**

"The Bowl of Bones," she says, and it's such an obvious statement that I just laugh.

In the dark, I can just make out the thin form of Mare, tucking one strand of hair back. I'm surprised at just how well I see in the dark; I had always relied on my fire to see, though I can make out shapes rather easily here. Though, considering the cold metal of the bars pressed against my back, I could use the fire to warm me up further. Mare turns and I can just barely make out the brown glint of her irises as they focus on me.

"I was four years old the first time I came here, and Maven was barely two. He hid behind his mother's skirts, afraid of the darkness and the empty cell," I say, not really to her, but not really to myself either. I remember the day surprisingly well, despite it being so long ago- Maven's bright blue eyes wide in fear as he ducked behind Elara, who chuckled to herself a little as she lightly patted his dark hair, murmuring reassurances gently to him. I looked back at them once or twice, clinging closer to my father's side as opposed to Elara. Even then, I hadn't liked the queen, though I had minimal memories of my mother. But even then, I suppose, Maven was closer to his mother. He didn't try to run to our father for reassurance, not like he'd give it to either of us. He wanted us to be soldiers, strong and independent.

 _Maven is not independent_ , I realize, no matter how much it pains me; _Maven needs his mother_. "I guess he's not afraid of the dark anymore," I finish, a bitterly humorless tone slipping into my voice.

"No, he's not," agrees Mare. Her voice is tired, not even attempting to sound bitter, more so sad. I guess I can understand her. She did _love_ him after all- and no matter what feelings I'd ever had for her, no matter what she's done to me, I can't quite muster myself to think she deserved Maven's betrayal. Not like I did, either. She pauses for a moment, shifts back against the bars, and drops her head, a frown painting her features. "Is Arven nearby?" she asks. I see her turn her head left to right, glancing around. "I can't feel a thing."

"It's the cells," I mutter back, wondering why the only question in her head is why she can't feel her electricity anymore. I guess if she really tried, she could feel it above, but either way it doesn't matter now. I trace flames in the thick dust layer on the cell floor, shaping out flames and wishing they were real so I could feel their warmth. "Made of Silent Stone. Don't ask me to explain it, because I can't, and I don't feel like trying." _I have bigger things on my mind, thanks, Mare Barrow._

My gaze sharpens as I look down the hall, gazing down the rows and rows of cells. I can't remember how many there are. I don't bother trying.

"Before the matches," I murmur, "when we still had to execute our own, the Bowl of Bones hosted everything nightmares were made of. The Great Greco, who used to tear men in half and eat their livers. The Poison Bride. She was an animos of House Viper and sent snakes into my great-great-uncle's bed on their wedding night." I shake my head slowly, wondering how we would be held up among these criminals- through lies, I suppose. "They say his blood turned to venom, he was bitten so many times."

I glance back at Mare, exhaling out slowly. "Now, us," I say. The Traitor Prince, they'll call me. 'He killed his father for the crown. He just couldn't wait.'"

Mare chuckles without humor.

"'The bitch made him do it,' they'll gossip to each other," she adds on to my newly woven tale. I could just imagine that- the Silvers and Reds in unison whispering together about the Red girl who seduced the Silver Prince, making him kill a king. "They'll blame me, the little lightning girl." She pushes herself up against the bars, glancing back at me. "I filled your thoughts with poison, I corrupted you. I made you do it."

I pause for a moment, and then realize that those words are the closest to the truth the gossip could ever get. It _was_ tempting to give in. It was tempting to let her through: after all, I knew Reds weren't equal, and maybe letting Mare go, letting her take over, would fix that. Plus, she was Mare. And, of course, I cared about Mare.

But the Scarlet Guard were terrorists, weren't they? My father was against them.

And my loyalty was always to my father- to my crown. Not anymore, I suppose.

"You almost did," I murmur in reply. "I almost chose you this morning."

She pushes herself up against the bars. She tips her head up, staring at the ceiling. Finally, she speaks. "They're going to kill us."

I laugh again. It's still cold, still humorless. She frowns, just a little, but I ignore it (at least I try to). "The king will see to it," I respond coolly. "We will be executed." The word _executed_ stabs at my stomach, but I squeeze my eyes shut for just a moment, reminding myself that the king is _Maven_ now and Maven _isn't my brother_ anymore.

"How will they do it?" she whispers, turning her head back to glance hesitantly at me.

I wince, thinking of all the ways. Ropes dangling, swords spattered with blood, knives or flames or water or any ability flashing through the air. And above it all, Maven, watching with cold blue eyes like he never even knew either of us personally in the first place. "There are many ways. Together, one at a time, with swords or guns or abilities or all three." I sigh again, trying to shove the mental images out of my brain. I don't understand why it matters how; we'll end up dead anyway. I blink before finishing dully, "They'll make it hurt. It won't be quick."

Mare smiles, surprising me for just a moment. "Maybe I'll _bleed_ all over the place." It isn't a thought that makes me happy, though it seems to entertain her. "That'll give the rest of the world something to think about. He won't be able to hide me then." She looks at her hands, as if she expects them to light up with sparks like before. "Everyone will know what I really am."

I look to her. "You really think that will change anything?"

She is silent. I don't think it will- I always prided myself on being great at predicting things (though it seems to have failed me, concerning Mare and Maven.) But I don't think that Maven would just let it slide. Either he won't let her and I use our powers, or he'll make up some grand, magnificent lie to pacify the ignorant masses. And he'll prove the conspiracy theorists right about our lying government. Joy to the world, our king has come.

The silence lingers. "I think it won't," I finally finish. "I think he'll use it as an excuse. There'll be more conscriptions, more laws, more labor camps." I shift again, stretching. "His mother will invent another marvelous lie, and the world will keep turning, same as before."

Mare stares at the ground. For a moment, I think she won't speak, but then she whispers, "He'll look for more like me."

I turn, my head nearly hitting the bars. "What?" I ask. _More like me. More like me._ Her words echo in my head.

Her voice is weak, the only sign of true fear she's shown since we first got down here. "There are others. Julian figured it out. He told me how to find them, and-" Her voice breaks, and I feel a pang of pity before I try to shove it away. "And I told him." She buries her head in her hands. "He used me so perfectly."

 _Used me so perfectly._ Sounds familiar. An acute stab of rage floods through me, and I grit my teeth as I spin to her. "How does it feel?" I breathe, almost nose to nose with her, though it brings no excited rush now. "How does it feel to be used, Mare Barrow?" I snap, and guilt flashes in her eyes, sending one wave of satisfaction over me and a tiny one of pity.

"I'm sorry."

The words sound forced out of her mouth, but the next ones sound sincere, soft. "I'm not Maven, Cal. I didn't do this to hurt you. I never.. wanted to hurt you." She turns away again, her head resting on her knees as she pulls them up to her chest. I want to believe her, I do, but believing- _trusting_ -her was the whole reason I got in this mess in the first place. "It wasn't all a lie," she whispers, her voice just barely there.

My head thwacks against the bars. The pain sends away the thoughts of believing her, for now, and that comforts me, just a little.

She lifts her head and then looks at me. "Do you think he'll kill my parents?" she asks.

Guilt smashes me over the head again. He probably will, but she doesn't deserve that, no matter what she's done to me. _No one_ deserves that, having their parents killed: not Mare, not even after what she did to me. And so I shift, leaning against the bars right behind her. Her pulse beats hard. Suddenly, the room feels warmer, just a little, somehow. I bite my lip for just a moment.

"I think he has more important things to think about," I whisper.

A little noise escapes her, and her shoulders start to shake. Her pulse picks up, and I can see something shine on her face- she's crying. Tears spill down her face, but I don't say a word to her about it. She can cry all she wants; she deserves it. For a while, she just cries, shivering slowly. Then, slowly, she stops. She wipes the tears away with one hand, and then leans back against me.

I don't know how long we stay like that- minutes, hours. I have to fight to keep my eyes open, the dark of the cell attempting to lull me to sleep. Once, Mare's head tips forward, just a little bit. Her eyes close, and her breaths even, for once- I guess she was dozing. But she awakens later, blinks and leans her head back against the bars. It is quiet, but not in an eerie way like before.

"In another life, I might be jealous."

Mare's head snaps up and she shivers. For a split second, I'm confused, but then, I recognize the voice. _Maven._

I throw myself at the bars, the metal singing. Maven's blue eyes go wide and he flinches a way. Out of the corner of my eye, I think I see Mare smile a little. His gaze flits to her and then back to me, regaining his posture. "Save your strength, brother," he sneers. "You will need it soon." For once, he has no dark circles under his eyes.

I clench the bars, my lip curling in disgust. "Will it be you in the arena?" I snap. "Will you do it yourself? Do you even have the nerve?" Maybe he does, maybe he doesn't. I could see him doing something like that, killing Mare and I himself. Yet I don't know if he could do it- at least with _Mare_ , anyway. I don't doubt he would be fine with himself when it came to killing me.

He laughs, cold and harsh. "We both know I could never beat you with ability," he responds, throwing back my own advice. "So I beat you with my head, dear brother."

Mare hasn't stood yet, watching, her brown eyes wide.

I growl, quiet, under my breath. "Mavey." I grip the bars tighter. "How could you do this to Father? To me?" I jerk my head back towards Mare. "To her?"

For a moment, his gaze darts to Mare, and he looks almost distressed, but he turns back to me and regains his cold mask. "A murdered king, a traitorous prince. So much blood," he murmurs, grinning almost sickly to himself. "They weep in the streets for our father. Or at least, they pretended to," he adds, shrugging blandly. I grit my teeth. He doesn't deserve to call my dad _his_ father, not after what he did. "The foolish wolves wait for me to stumble, and the smart ones know I will not. House Samos, House Iral, they've been sharpening their claws for years, waiting for a weak king, a compassionate king. You know how they drooled at the sight of you? Think about it, Cal. Decades from now, Father would die slowly, peacefully, and you would ascend. Married to Evangeline, a daughter of steel and knives, with her brother at your side. You wouldn't survive the coronation night. She would do what Mother did and supplant her with her own child."

I sneer in his face. Trying to _justify_ what he did. "Don't tell me you did this to protect a dynasty," I snap, shaking my head. "You did this for yourself."

Maven grins, pointedly, coldly, then shrugs. "Are you really so surprised? Poor Mavey, the second prince. The shadow of his brother's flame. A weak thing, a little thing, doomed to stand to the side and kneel."

He pulls back and then moves to Mare's cell, sneering down at her. Mare's breath picks up as she stares at him, looking too frightened to move.

"Betrothed to a girl with eyes for another, for the brother, the prince no one could _ever_ ignore," he snarls. Mare blinks, glancing down, like she acknowledges it's true. My eyes widen a little, because after the Scarlet Guard incident, I didn't think she actually loved me. But I guess if _Maven_ says it's true... His eyes stay fixed on her, but his words are directed to me when he says, "You took everything that should have been _mine_ , Cal. _Everything_."

I open my mouth to respond, but Mare suddenly leaps to her feet, blood rushing to her cheeks, from anger or embarrassment or both. "I was never yours, and you were _never_ mine, Maven," she snarls, and Maven's eyes go wide, like either he was hurt or he didn't expect her to respond. "And not because of _him,_ either." She jerks her head towards me, baring her teeth. "I thought you were perfect, I thought you were brave and strong and _good._ I thought you were _better than him._ "

Maven flinches, and I deflate a little. _Better than him_. It kind of upsets me, knowing that she thought he was better than me at one point. Maven suddenly looks vulnerable, reminding me of who I thought he was. His hand slips through the bars and grasps Mare's wrist. Mare curls her lip at him, disgust filling her gaze. Her eyes skip to me for once, softening a little, before they fill with repulsion again as she looks back at Maven. His blue eyes are desperate, pathetic, hopeless, and I feel disgust.

"I can save you," Maven whispers. Mare shivers, revolted.

"Your father loved you, Maven," she insists. "You didn't see it, but he did."

"A lie," Maven replies quietly.

Mare opens her mouth and closes it before pain twists her features. "He loved you, and you killed him!" she wails. "Your brother loved you, and you made him a murderer. I loved you. I trusted you. I needed you." She stares anywhere besides Maven's face, looking horrified. "And now I'm going to die for it."

"I am _king_ ," Maven persists. "You will live if I want you to. I will make it so."

"You mean if you lie? One day your lies will strangle you, King Maven. My only regret is I won't be alive to see it." My mouth drops open when she yanks at his wrist, and he stumbles against the bars. She brings her fist back, and her knuckles hit his cheek hard. He yelps back, and Mare looks satisfied. "I will never make the mistake of loving you ever again."

Maven blinks, dazed, until he quickly recovers and smoothes his hair back. "So you choose him?" he asks. I feel a weird surge of hope, then pushing it down as I turn to look at Mare.

Shockingly, Mare throws her head back and laughs, like a bark."Cal betrayed me, and I betrayed him. And you betrayed us both, in a thousand different ways." She smiles, as if proud of her heavy words. "I choose no one," she says, and I can't help but squeeze the bars tighter.

Maven's mouth falls open as he stumbles back, somehow even more stung by the words than I. Mare's fingers squeeze into fists, a satisfied smile curling her mouth. She leans closer to the bars. "What will you tell them when I bleed?" she hisses after him. "The truth?" she says, and I want to laugh. I doubt he would tell the truth.

As expected, Maven straightens and laughs for me, deep in his chest. "The truth is what I make it. I could set this world on fire and call it rain."

He is pathetic, I think. A liar, a traitor- if anything, he should be the one with the Traitor Prince label. He is the one who stood by as Elara made me kill my father; he is the one who did it all to be king.

His voice transforms into a snarl. "Anyone who knows that we hid you, _anyone_ with even a hint of suspicion, will be dealt with."

Mare's mouth opens, her eyes flicking down, her eyebrows furrowing, clearly thinking of all the people. Maven smirks, clearly enjoying this. "Lady Blonos had to go, of course. Decapitation deals nicely with skin healers." Mare's eyes widen, her mouth opening just a little. "The maids were easier," he continues. "Pretty girls, sisters from Oldshire. Mother did them in herself." Mare lets out a strange noise, falling to her knees as tears prick the corner of her eyes.

"They didn't know anything," she whispers to no one, her voice pleading for something that can't be solved.

He chuckles. "Lucas will go as well." A twisted smile pulls at his features. "You'll get to see that for yourself."

Mare's pupils dilate. She trembled. "You told me he was safe, with his family-"

"When are you going to realize that every word out of my mouth was a _lie_?" he sneers.

"We forced him, Julian and I. He did nothing wrong," wails Mare. _Forced him?_ I think, perplexed. _For what? Unless..._ my thoughts drift back to my suspicions of Julian helping the Guard escape. I guess that was it. "He's of House Samos. You can't kill one of them."

"Mare, haven't you been paying attention?" he asks, tipping his head. "I can do _anything._ It's a pity we couldn't get Julian back here in time. I would've liked to make him watch you die."

Mare presses a hand to her mouth, tears pouring down her cheeks. I growl deep in my throat, clenching the bars until my knuckles turn white. "You found him?" I snarl at him. My brother laughs in my face.

"Of course we did," he chuckles. "We captured Julian and Sara both." He leans closer. "I'll settle for killing Skonos first, finishing the job my mother began. You know the story there now, don't you, Cal? You know what my mother did, whispering her way into Coriane's head, making her brain crawl." He leans even closer, and my hands slack around the bars. _No,_ I want to whisper, but he smirks again. "Sara knew. And your father, even you, refused to believe her. You let my mother win, and you've done it again."

I lean my head against the bars, filtering out the rest of the conversation. My heart squeezes; if only I'd believed Sara, if only my father had- then Elara would be in prison, and we wouldn't have Maven, and my father would still be king, and we wouldn't be stuck in this damn cell with this damn whisper as queen regent of Norta and everything would be fine. We just wouldn't be in this situation. I can't hear the rest of the conversation over the pounding in my head, but tears pour down Mare's cheeks, and Maven sucks on his teeth as he watches her. He dips his head to us and I look away, gripping the bars even tighter than before.

"Good-bye, Mare," I hear him say. There's a pause where the only sound I can hear is my own ragged breathing and the small, little sobs Mare gives out as her body shakes. Then, finally, he says, "I told you to hide your heart once. You should have listened." I look to Mare again, and rage contorts her features. She spits at him, and he winces, then turns quickly and speeds away. My head thunks against the bars again, pain throbbing- not from the impact of the bars, but from the impact of Maven's words. I sigh quietly, noticing out of the corner of my eye as Mare settles back against the bars that meet my cell. For a long time, we stay in that position, and then I rise and move back to settle against Mare again.

She relaxes a little. I want to relax, too, but I just feel too tense. I swear under my breath. Mare squeezes her eyes shut, leaning her head against the bars like she just can't bear to look at the cells around us.

My breath rattles as I exhale. I squeeze my eyes shut, too, and try to pretend that the recent days were nothing more than a dream.


End file.
